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ROBESPIERRE. 


MEMORABLE   SCENES 


FRENCH  HISTORY: 

FROM 

THE  ERA  OF  CARDINAL  RICHELIEU 

TO 

THE!    PRESENT    TIMK. 

EMBRACING 

THE  PROMINENT  EVENTS  OF  THE  LAST  THREE  CENTURIES, 

WITH 

INCIDENTS  IN  THE  LIVES 

OP   CARDINAL   RICHELIEU,   LOUIS   XV.,    LOUIS   XVI.,   MARIA   ANTOINETTE, 

LOUIS   XVII.,   MIRABEAU,    ROBESPIERRE,    NAPOLEON   I.,  MARIA 

LOUISA,  NAPOLEON   II.,  AND   NAPOLEON   III.,  ETC. 

BY 

SAMUEL  M.  SCHMUCKER, 

AUTHOR  OF  "  COURT  AND  RKIGN  OF  CATHARINE  II.,"  "  EMPEROR  NICHOLAS 

I.,"  LIFE  OF  "ALEXANDER  HAMILTON,"  "ARCTIC  EXPLORATIONS 

AND  DISCOVERIES,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PORTER    &    COATES. 


PREFACE. 


THE  career  of  conquest,  suffering,  and  glory  which 
France  has  run  in  modern  times  is  without  a  parallel  in 
history.  She  may  never  have  deserved,  and  she  may 
not  now  deserve,  the  title  and  dignity  of  being  the  great- 
est of  nations.  Other  communities  may  have  been  more 
powerful,  more  populous,  more  opulent,  and  more  worthy 
of  admiration  and  esteem,  than  she.  They  may  have 
made  greater  discoveries  in  science ;  they  may  have  effect- 
ed more  important  reforms  in  politics  and  religion  ;  they 
may  have  produced  nobler  achievements  in  the  fine  arts ; 
they  may  have  given  birth  to  bards  who  have  sung  in 
loftier  strains  of  poetry,  and  to  philosophers  who  have 
descended  toprofounder  depths  of  speculation.  But  yet, 
if  the  career  of  France  were  blotted  out  from  the  history 
of  our  world,  it  would  produce  a  greater  chasm  and  a 
more  sensible  loss,  than  would  be  felt  by  the  elimination 
of  the  records  of  any  other  nation. 

Hence  it  is,  that  the  peculiar  interest  which  French 
history  possesses  has  led  to  the  production  of  innume,ra- 
ble  publications  on  the  subject ;  yet  it  is  probable  that  no 
class  of  descriptive  works  command  the  same  degree  of 
general  interest  as  those  which  refer  to  French  history. 
There  is  a  superior  charm  connected  with  the  events 
which  have  occurred  in  France  during  the  last  two  cen- 
turies, which  seems  to  be  inexhaustible,  to  be  ever  fresh 

2132810 


iv  PREFACR 

and  new.  The  great  French  nation  groaning  under  the 
tyranny  of  an  ancient,  illustrious,  but  pernicious  dynasty  ; 
struggling  desperately  for  the  possession  of  political  lib- 
erty— a  thing  then  unknown  in  Europe;  overwhelmed 
by  the  bloody  surges  of  a  mighty  revolution ;  then  passing 
in  the  vain  search  for  peace  and  security  from  one  tran- 
sient form,  of  government  to  another,  till  at  length  it  lay 
unresistingly  beneath  the  giant  grasp  of  the  triumphant 
Corsican  ;  then  crushed  by  a  hostile  continent  in  arms, 
and  cast  adrift  again  on  the  wide  and  stormy  sea  of  politi- 
cal adventure ;  and  once  more,  after  many  strange  vicis- 
situdes, resting  as  it  now  does,  in  stately  and  resplendent 
repose  beneath  the  heir  to  the  name  and  fortunes  of  the 
"  Child  of  Destiny  ; " — such  are  the  imposing  scenes  pre- 
sented in  modern  times  by  the  checkered  history  of  France. 
In  the  following  pages  I  have  endeavored  to  describe 
some  of  these  Memorable  Scenes.  I  have  avoided  as 
much  as  possible  the  beaten  track  generally  pursued  by 
writers  on  these  subjects  ;  and  by  exploring  the  recesses 
of  old  and  musty  tomes,  not  always  accessible  to  the 
reader,  to  reproduce  some  scenes  and  narrate  some  events 
which  have  long  been  buried  from  general  observation  by 
the  literary  rubbish  which  surrounded  them.  I  have 
given  prominence  to  such  events  and  to  such  epochs  in 
French  history  as  seemed  to  me  to  possess  the  greatest 
interest  and  importance ;  yet  as  to  the  propriety  of  the 
selections  made,  there  must  necessarily  exist,  among 
readers  of  different  tastes,  a  great  diversity  of  opinion. 

S.  M.  S. 


CONTENTS. 


INTBODUCTION. 
BRIEF  SURVEY  OF  FRENCH  HISTORY. 

PAGE. 

Gaul  vanquished  by  Julius  Caesar, 18 

The  Reign  of  Clovis, 14 

France  divided  at  his  Death, 14 

Rise  of  the  Carlovinian  Dynasty, 15 

Charlemagne's  Empire, 15 

Hugh  Capet  ascends  the  Throne, 16 

Louis  the  Ninth, 16 

Accession  of  Charles  VIL 17 

Louis  XI IT 

Francis  L IT 

Henry  IV.  the  first  Bourbon  Prince, 18 

CHAPTER   I. 

FRANCE  UNDER  THE  ADMINISTRATION  OF  RICHELIEU. 

State  of  France  under  Henry  IV 19 

Influence  of  Richelieu's  Administration, 20 

Birth  of  Richelieu, 21 

MaryDe  Medici, 21 

Death  of  Henry  IV. 23 

Mary  de  Medici  becomes  Queen  Regent, 22 

First  public  appearance  of  Richelieu, 28 

His  vigorous  Administration, 25 

Duke  of  Buckingham, 2T 

Siege  of  LaRochelle, 28 

Quarrel  of  Richelieu  and  Mary  de  Medici, 80 

Character  of  Mary  De  Medici, 81 

Sickness  of  Louis  XIII 83 

Conspiracy  Against  Richelieu, 84 

Interview  between  Mary  de  Medici  and  Richelieu, 85 

Perplexityof  the  King, - 87 

Eichelieu  triumphs  over  the  Cabal, 88 

Bassompierre's  Imprisonment, 89 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PAS*. 

Expulsion  of  Mary  de  Medici  from  France. 40 

Her  Miserable  Death, 42 

Duke  of  Orleans, 48 

The  Filles  de  St  Marie,    46 

Birth  of  Louis  XIV 47 

Father  Joseph's  Death, 49 

Cinq-Mare, 60 

His  Conspiracy  against  Richelieu, SI 

Marion  De  1'Orme, 61 

Execution  of  Cinq-Mars, 63 

Death  of  Richelieu, 64 

His  peculiar  Mental  Qualities, 65 

His  Dramatic  Failures, 67 

CHAPTER  II. 

MORALS  AND  MANNERS  BEFORE  THE  REVOLUTION 

Louis  XIV. 60 

De  Choiseul's  Ministry, 61 

TheJesnite, 62 

Their  Suppression  in  1762, 68 

Court  of  Louis  XV. 64 

Origin  of  Madame  Pompadour, 65 

Her  Influence  and  Arts, 66 

Her  Vindictiveness, , 67 

Her  Death, 68 

Origin  of  Madam  Dn  Barry, 69 

Condition  of  Louis  XV. 70 

Luxury  of  Madam  Du  Barry, 71 

Death  of  Louis  XV. 78 

The  state  of  France, 78 

Morals  in  the  Church, 74 

Momlsof  the  Nation, 75 

Birth  of  Louis  XVL 77 

His  Mental  Qualities, 78 

Youth  of  Louis  XVI 79 

His  Amusements, 80 

His  Rigorous  Conduct,    81 

Marriage  with  Maria  Antoinette. 83 

Benevolence  of  Maria  Antionette, 84 

The  Count  de  Provence, 85 

The  Count  d'Artois, 86 

The  Duke  de  Chartres, 87 

His  Excesses, 88 

Consequences  to  Louis  XVI. M 


CONTENTS.  Vll 
CHAPTER  m. 

OPENING  SCENES  OF  THE  FIRST  REVOLUTION. 

PAD*. 

Ministry  of  Target, 99 

Ministry  of  Necker, 98 

Ministry  of  Calonne, 94 

Louis  Summons  the  States-General. 95 

Rise  of  Modern  Demagogues, 96 

The  States-General  Elected, 97 

Its  First  Assemblage, 98 

The  Procession  to  Notre  Dame, 99 

The  Opening  Sermon, 100 

Demands  of  the  Tiers  Etat, 102 

The  Title  Adopted, 103 

Misplaced  Decision  of  the  King,  104 

The  New  Constitution, 105 

The  Bastille, 106 

The  Attack  on  the  Bastille, 10T 

The  Garrison  Capitulates, 108 

Kecall  of  Necker, 110 

Acts  Passed  by  the  Assembly, Ill 

Bright  Side  of  the  Revolution, 112 

Fanltsof  the  Queen, 113 

Joseph  II.  visits  Paris, 114 

Orgies  of  the  Trianon,  115 

Distinguished  Impostors, 116 

Their  Mysterious  Tricks, 11T 

Cardinal  De  Rohan, 118 

The  Diamond  Necklace 119 

Adroitness  of  Lamoth, 120 

Effect  of  the  Intrigue, 121 

Increasing   Difficulties, 122 

Triumph  of  Mirabeau, 128 

CHAPTER  IV. 

TERRIBLE  POWER  OF  ROBESPIERRE  AND  THE  JACOBINS. 

Rise  of  Robespierre, 126 

His  Resemblance  to  Demosthenes, 127 

The  Emigrants  and  Priests, 129 

Decrees  of  the  Assembly, 130 

Rise  of  Doumouriez, 181 

Insults  offered  to  the  Queen, 182 

Santerre  and  his  Mob, 138 

Jacobin  Pantomines, 184 

Th«  Rabble  in  the  Palace, 186 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PAOK. 

Expulsion  of  Mary  de  Medici  from  France. 40 

Her  Miserable  Death, 42 

Duke  of  Orleans, 48 

The  Filles  de  St.  Marie,    46 

Birth  of  Louis  XIV 47 

Father  Joseph's  Death, 49 

Cinq-Mars, 60 

His  Conspiracy  against  Eichelieu, 51 

Marion  De  I'Orme, 51 

Execution  of  Cinq-Mars, 53 

Death  of  Eichelieu, 64 

His  peculiar  Mental  Qualities, 65 

His  Dramatic  Failures, 5T 

CHAPTER  II. 

MORALS  AND  MANNERS  BEFORE  THE  REVOLUTION 

Louis  XIV. 60 

De  Choiseul's  Ministry, 61 

TheJesnite, 62 

Their  Suppression  in  1762, 68 

Court  of  Louis  XV. 64 

Origin  of  Madame  Pompadour, 65 

Her  Influence  and  Arts, 66 

Her  Vindictiveness, 67 

Her  Death, 68 

Origin  of  Madam  Dn  Barry, 69 

Condition  of  Louis  XV. 70 

Luxury  of  Madam  Du  Barry, 71 

Death  of  Louis  XV. 73 

The  state  of  France, 78 

Morals  in  the  Church, 74 

Moralsof  the  Nation, 75 

Birth  of  Louis  XVI 77 

His  Mental  Qualities, 78 

Youth  of  Louis  XVI 79 

His  Amusements, 80 

His  Rigorous  Conduct, 81 

Marriage  with  Maria  Antoinette 83 

Benevolence  of  Maria  Antionette, 84 

The  Count  de  Provenne, 85 

The  Count  d'Artois, 86 

The  Duke  de  Chartres, 87 

His  Excesses, 88 

Consequences  to  Louis  XVL 9* 


CONTENTS.  Vll 
CHAPTER  m. 

OPENING  SCENES  OF  THE  FIRST  REVOLUTION. 

PAG*. 

Ministry  of  Turgot, 93 

Ministry  of  Necker, 99 

Ministry  of  Calonne, 94 

Louis  Summons  the  States-General 95 

Rise  of  Modern  Demagogues, 96 

The  States-General  Elected, 97 

Its  First  Assemblage, 98 

The  Procession  to  Notre  Dame, 99 

The  Opening  Sermon, 100 

Demands  of  the  Tiers  Etat, 102 

The  Title  Adopted, 103 

Misplaced  Decision  of  the  King,  104 

The  New  Constitution, 105 

The  Bastille, 106 

TheAttack  on  the  Bastille, 107 

The  Garrison  Capitulates, „  108 

Kecallof  Necker, 110 

Acts  Passed  by  the  Assembly, Ill 

Brigh t  Side  of  th e  Revolution, 112 

Faults  of  the  Queen, 118 

Joseph  II.  visits  Paris, 114 

Orgies  of  the  Trianon,  115 

Distinguished  Impostors, 116 

Their  Mysterious  Tricks, 117 

Cardinal  De  Rohan, 118 

The  Diamond  Necklace 119 

Adroitness  of  Lamoth, 120 

Effect  of  the  Intrigue, 121 

Increasing  Difficulties, 122 

Triumph  of  Mirabeau, 128 

CHAPTER  IV. 

TERRIBLE  POWER  OF  ROBESPIERRE  AND  THE  JACOBINS. 

Rise  of  Robespierre, 126 

His  Resemblance  to  Demosthenes, 127 

The  Emigrants  and  Priests, 129 

Decreesof  the  Assembly, 130 

Rise  of  Doumouriez, 181 

Insults  offered  to  the  Queen, 182 

Santerre  and  his  Mob, 138 

Jacobin  Pantomines, 184 

The  Rabble  in  the  Palace, 186 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  V. 

LOUIS  XVI.  AT  THE  BAR  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CONVENTION. 

PAGE. 

Scene  In  the  Champ  de  Mars, 137 

Proposal  for  the  King's  Escape, 188 

The  King  Declines  it, 189 

The  Gathering  of  the  Storm, 140 

The  Marseillais,  141 

The  Mob  Approaches  the  Palace, 142 

Eesolution  of  the  Queen,  148 

Louis  Repairs  to  the  Assembly, 145 

The  Destruction  of  the  Palace, UT 

Decree  of  Dethronement  Passed, 148 

The  Court  Abolished, 149 

The  New  Government 160 

The  Royal  Family  in  the  Temple, 161 

Habits  of  the  Eoyal  Prisoners, 152 

Trial  of  Louis  Proposed, 153 

Trial  of  Louis  Decreed, 154 

The  Eoyal  Family  Separated, 155 

Louis  Appears  before  his  Judges, 156 

His  Arraignment, 158 

His  Counsel, 169 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    DOWNNALL   OF  THE  ANCIENT  MONARCHY. 

Speech  of  Robespierre, 162 

The  Decree  of  Guilty,  163 

Vote  upon  the  King's  Punish  inent,  164 

The  Decree  of  Death, 166 

Louis  Learns  his  Fate, 167 

Their  Intense  Grief, 171 

Louis  receives  the  Communion, 172 

CHAPTER  VH. 


Louis  Ascends  the  Scaffold, 174 

HisDeath, 176 

Will  of  Louis  XVI 177 

Charges  against  the  Queen, 179 

Death  of  Maria  Antoinette, 180 

The  Dauphin  of  France, 138 


CONTENTS.  ix 

PAGK, 

Simon  withdraws  from  the  Temple, , 1S4 

Death  of  the  Princess  Elizabeth 185 

Horrid  Condition  of  the  Dauphin, 186 

Visit  of  Laurent, 187 

Death  of  the  Dauphin, 190 

Mysterious  Music, 191 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  FALL  OF  ROBESPIERRE  AND  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

Growth  of  Robespierre's  Power, 19S 

Awful  State  of  France, 194 

Revolutionary  Scenes,  195 

Madam  Tallien, 197 

Conspiracy  Against  Robespierre, 198 

Speech  of  Tallien,  199 

Robespierre  Arrested, 200 

Terror  in  Paris, 202 

Robespierre  Attempts  Suicide, 203 

His  Execution, 204 

Results  of  the  Reign  of  Terror, 205 

State  of  France, 206 

Establishment  of  the  Directory, 208 

CHAPTER  IX. 

NAPOLEON'S    EXPEDITION  TO  EGYPT. 

Napoleon's  Brilliant  Conceptions, 210 

The  Descent  on  England, 211 

C  apture  of  Alexandria, . .  214 

The  State  of  that  City, 215 

The  March  in  the  Desert, 216 

The  Nile,  217 

Battle  of  the  Pyramids, 219 

Napoleon's  Reign  in  Cairo, •. 220 

Battle  of  the  Nile, 221 

Explosion  of  the  L'Orient, 228 

Riotin  Cairo, 224 

Invasion  of  Syria, 225 

Four  Thousand  Prisoners  Shot, 226 

Biege  of  Acre, 227 

Defeat  of  Napoleon, 228 

His  Return  to  France 229 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

MARIA  LOUISA,  AND  THE  COURT  OF  ST.  3LOUD. 

PASK. 

Napoleon's  Series  of  Victories, 282 

Maria  Louisa's  Opinion  of  Napoleon, 288 

Napoleon's  Divorce  from  Josephine, 284 

Josephine's  Appearance, 285 

Midnight  Scene  in  the  Palace, 286 

Napoleon's  Second  Marriage, 287 

Novel  Scheme  of  Berthier, 289 

Bierthier's  Reward, 241 

The  Splendor  of  Napoleon's  Court,  242 

Its  Heroes  and  Beauties, 244 

Its  Artists  and  Savans, 245 

Birth  of  the  King  of  Eome, 248 

Madam  I)e  Montesquieu,   251 

Death  of  the  King  of  Eome, 258 

CHAPTER  XI. 

EXPEDITION  OF  NAPOLEON  IN  RUSSIA. 

Magnitude  of  the  Enterprise, 255 

Splendid  Scenes  at  Dresden, 256 

Passage  of  the  Niemen 227 

Napoleon  at  Vitepsk, .  259 

His  Painful  Suspense, 260 

Napoleon  at  Smolensko, 262 

Siege  of  Smolensko, 263 

Retreat  of  the  Russians, 264 

Borodino, 266 

Commencement  of  the  Battle, 267 

The  Fury  of  the  Conflict. 268 

The  Great  Central  Redoubt, 269 

The  Victory  of  the  French, 2TO 

Immense  loss  of  the  Victory, 271 

The  Field  of  Battle, 279 

Resolution  to  Burn  Moscow, 278 

Napoleon's  Entrance  into  Moscow, '. 275 

Napoleon's  First  Night  in  Moscow, 277 

Moscow  in  Flames, 278 

Napoleon's  Efforts  to  Negotiate, 280 

The  Retreat  Begins, 281 

Horrorsofthe  Eetreat, 284 

Napoleon  at  Smolensko, 285 

Napoleon  Deserts  his  Army, 188 

Results  of  the  Expedition, 289 

Napoleon  Reaches  Paris, 290 

Napoleon  at  Elba, 291 


CONTENTS.  XI 
CHAPTER  Xn. 

NAPOLEON   DURING  THE  HUNDRED  DATS. 

PAGE. 

The  Congress  of  Vienna, 298 

Napoleon  and  Madam  "Walewski, 294 

Madam  Walewski, 295 

Napoleon  Embarks  for  France, 296 

The  March  to  Grenoble, 297 

Napoleon  at  Lyons, 299 

His  Reception  at  the  Tuilleries, 801 

First  Proofs  of  Treachery, ...  802 

European  Conspiracy  against  Napoleon, 808 

Sum  Total  of  their  Armies 804 

Desperate  Nature  of  the  Conflict, 805 

His  Immense  Activity 807 

New  Constitution  Proclaimed,  808 

Napoleon  joins  his  Army, 811 

His  Address  to  the  Troops, 812 

The  Combatants  Approach  each  other,    818 

The  Battle  of  Ligny, 815 

Last  Victory  of  Napoleon, 817 

The  Battle  of  Qnartre-Bras, 818 

The  Battle  of  Waterloo, 820 

Desperate  Heroism  of  the  Combatants, 828 

The  Charge  of  the  Old  Guard, 824 

The  Imperial  Guard  Eecoil,  828 

Total  Defeat  of  Napoleon 827 

Napoleon  Returns  to  Paris, 828 

Movements  of  the  Allies, .  880 

Napoleon  at  Malmaison, 881 

Eeturn  of  Louis  XVIII.  to  Paris, 882 

Final  Disposal  of  Bonaparte, 888 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

EXILE  OF  NAPOLEON  AT  ST.  HELENA. 

Appearance  of  St  Helena, 884 

Situation  of  Longwood, 886 

Napoleon's  Protest, 887 

Apprehensions  of  Europe's  Monarchs, 888 

Napoleon's  Feelings  in  Exile, 839 

Measures  of  Sir  Hudson  Lowe, 840 

Napoleon's  Hatred  of  his  Jailor, 842 

The  Modern  Mecca,  844 

Proposals  of  Escape, •  •  •  •  845 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

PASS. 

Napoleon's  Sickness, 846 

Napoleon's  Will,. 847 

He  Prepares  for  Death, 843 

He  Receives  Extreme  Unction, 849 

He  Becomes  Delirious, 850 

Death  of  Napoleon, 851 

His  Remains  Removed  to  France,  ...   852 

Return  of  Louis  XVIIL 858 

Louis  Phillipe, 854 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

NAPOLEON   III.   EMPEROR   OF  THE  FRENCH. 

Parentage  of  Napoleon  III.  . .    856 

Napoleon  III.  at  Arenemberg, 857 

He  Conspires  against  Louis  Phillipe, 858 

Affair  of  Strasbnrg, 859 

His  Sojourn  in  New  York, 360 

His  Exile  in  England, 861 

The  Prince  Imprisoned  at  Ham, 868 

He  Resolves  to  Escape, 864 

He  is  elected  a  Representative, ....  865 

He  is  Elected  President, 866 

His  Talents  as  a  Ruler. 86T 

Causes  of  Coup  d'Etat, 863 

Necessity  of  the  Measure, 869 

Incidents  of  the  Coup  d'Etat, -. 870 

Necessary  Loss  of  Life, 871 

Submission  throughout  France, 872 

Louis  Napoleon's  Confederates, 878 

Marshal  St.  Arnand, 874 

Louis  Napoleon  as  Emperor, 877 

The  Imperial  Marriage, 878 

Qualities  of  the  Empress, 879 

Alliance  between  England  and  France, 880 

Birth  of  the  Imperial  Prince. 881 

His  Probable  Destiny, 882 

The  Peace  of  Europe, 888 

Louis  Napoleon's  Policy, 884 

Conclusion, 88ft 


MEMORABLE  SCENES. 


INTRODUCTION. 

A  BRIEF   SURVEY   OF   FRENCH   HISTORY. 

THE  triumphant  arms  of  Julius  Caesar  vanquished  the 
inhabitants  of  the  beautiful  and  fertile  clime  of  ancient 
Gaul,  about  fifty  years  before  the  birth  of  Christ ;  and 
with  their  subjugation  to  the  Roman  yoke  they  also  ac- 
quired a  degree  of  civilization  and  historical  importance 
which  they  never  before  possessed,  but  which,  from  that 
remote  period  until  the  present,  have  continued  to  increase 
with  the  progress  of  ages. 

In  the  year  420  the  Franks,  a  free  and  warlike  race  who 
dwelt  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Rhine  and  the  Weser,  made 
an  irruption  into  Gaul ;  strove  to  subdue  the  still  preva- 
lent power  of  Rome,  and  to  wrest  the  scepter  of  the  coun- 
try from  her  grasp.  This  first  attempt  proved  unsuccess- 
ful; but  in  451  the  Franks  finally  conquered  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Gaul,  after  defeating  the  formidable  armies  of 
Attila,  the  king  of  the  Huns,  at  the  bloody  battle  of  Cha- 
lons. Meroveus,  the  leader  of  the  victorious  Franks,  then 
established  his  capital  on  the  spot  now  occupied  by  Pans. 
He  fixed  his  power  permanently  in  the  laud  of  the  van- 
quished Gauls ;  and  he  became  the  founder  of  an  illustrious 
dynasty  of  princes,  since  known  in  history  as  that  of  the 
Merovinia?  kings. 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

Under  Clovis  the  Great,  the  power  of  Imperial  Rome 
was  entirely  and  permanently  banished  from  the  Frank 
territory.  He  defeated  the  Roman  general  Syagrius,  in 
486,  at  the  great  battle  of  Soissons.  That  monarch  also 
determined  to  enlarge  his  territory.  His  character  was 
warlike  and  cruel ;  but  he  was  not  undeserving  of  the 
praise  of  a  great  conqueror.  He  subdued  the  inhabitants 
of  Bretagne,  the  Alemanni  on  the  Rhine,  and  the  Visigoths 
who  inhabited  the  fertile  region  which  lay  between  the 
Pyrennees  and  the  Garonne.  Having  been  successful  in  all 
his  ambitious  aims,  he  rested  from  the  anxious  toils  of 
war,  and  became  a  Christian,  in  accordance  with  the  fashion 
of  those  times ;  and  in  fulfillment,  of  the  vow  which  he  had 
made,  to  worship  the  God  of  his  wife  Clotilda,  if  in  the 
end  he  was  victorious  over  all  his  foes.  He  was  baptized 
with  great  pomp  and  ceremony  by  St.  Remi,  at  Rheims, 
in  the  year  496.  He  was  there  anointed  with  the  miracu- 
lous oil,  reputed  to  have  been  sent  down  from  heaven 
by  means  of  a  dove.  From  the  period  of  the  conversion 
of  Clovis  the  Great,  France  became  numbered  among  the 
catalogue  of  Christian  nations. 

At  the  death  of  Clovis,  his  royal  patrimony  was  divided 
between  his  four  sons.  Childebert,  to  whose  share  fell 
the  kingdoms  of  Paris,  Orleans  and  Soissons,  is  considered 
as  the  successor  of  Clovis.  Clotaire  H.,  an  indolent  and 
voluptuous  prince,  threw  the  whole  burden  of  empire  on 
the  shoulders  of  his  ministers.  To  these  Maires  du  Palais 
he  intrusted  absolute  power.  The  consequence  was  that, 
after  possessing  the  substance  of  authority  during  several 
generations,  these  officers  ambitiously  aimed,  also,  at  the 
acquisition  of  its  name  and  titles.  They  made  themselves 


INTRODUCTION.  15 

independent  of  the  sovereign ;  and  seized  the  kingdoms  of 
Austrasia,  of  Neustria,  and  of  Burgundy.  In  these  prov- 
inces they  ruled  with  the  title  and  prerogatives  of  inde- 
pendent kings.  The  most  eminent  of  this  line  of  usurpers 
was  Pepin.  His  son  Charles  Martel,  increased  by  his 
warlike  exploits  the  power  and  celebrity  of  his  race.  His 
son  Pepin  Le  JSref^  founded  the  illustrious  Carlovingian 
dynasty  in  751.  Under  the  reign  of  his  successor,  the 
peerless  Charlemagne,  the  empire  of  the  Franks  attained 
its  meridian  splendor.  He  was  a  great  conqueror,  a  wise 
legislator,  and  a  revered  saint.  His  empire,  obtained 
partly  by  inheritance,  partly  by  conquest,  and  partly  by 
treaty,  extended  from  the  Ebro  to  the  Elbe  and  the 
Danube ;  from  the  Northern  sea  to  the  Mediterranean  and 
the  Adriatic;  including  France,  Germany,  part  of  Spain, 
Hungary  and  Bohemia,  some  provinces  of  Dalmatia,  and 
Italy,  as  far  as  the  confines  of  Naples.  Out  of  the  dis- 
jointed wrecks  of  the  falling  empire  of  ancient  Rome 
Charlemagne  constructed  a  consolidated  cluster  of  do- 
minions, equal  in  magnitude  and  power  to  that  possessed 
by  Augustus  himself. 

The  vast  monarchy  of  Charlemagne  descended  to  his  son, 
Louis  le  Debonnaire ;  but  its  unwieldy  fabric  fell  to  pieces, 
as  soon  as  it  passed  into  his  feeble  and  trembling  grasp. 
By  the  treaty  of  Verdun  in  843,  the  crowns  of  France, 
Germany,  and  Italy  were  wisely  separated  from  each  other; 
and  the  youngest  son  of  Louis,  Charles  the  Bald,  became 
the  first  monarch  of  the  separate  and  independent  king- 
dom of  France. 

This  second  dynasty  continued  on  the  throne  during  a 
hundred  years ;  but  this  was  an  ignoble  period  of  French 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

history,  and  its  most  important  incidents  consisted  in 
fierce  and  bitter  struggles  which  took  place  between  the 
kings,  and  their  turbulent  and  refractory  nobles. 

In  987  Hugh  Capet  ascended  the  throne,  and  became 
the  founder  of  the  third,  or  Capetian  dynasty,  which  has 
in  succeeding  ages  inherited  the  possession  of  an  inse- 
cure crown.  But  the  evils  of  the  feudal  system,  which 
then  existed  in  all  their  excess  in  France,  distracted  the 
nation  for  many  generations  with  bloody  and  destructive 
wars.  The  power  of  some  of  these  petty  princes  and 
feudal  lords  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that,  in  the 
twelfth  century,  one  of  them  possessed  the  sovereignty 
of  sixteen  of  the  present  departments  of  France.  Anoth- 
er possessed  that  of  seven.  A  third  held  six.  The  whole 
south  of  France  belonged  to  a  number  of  feudal  lords ; 
and  throughout  the  kingdom  the  audacious  power  and  in- 
dependence which  they  arrayed  against  the  supremacy 
of  the  sovereign,  indicated  that  the  authority  of  the  lat- 
ter was  held  by  a  very  insecure  tenure. 

The  influence  of  the  feudal  nobility  was  at  length  broken 
by  the  energetic  measures  adopted  by  Louis  IX.  The 
introduction  of  written  laws  and  statutes  by  that  mon- 
arch ;  the  use  of  letters  of  nobility  by  Philip  II. ;  and  the 
establishment  of  representatives  of  the  people  in  a  delib- 
erative assembly,  by  Philip  IV.,  all  tended  to  diminish  the 
supremacy  of  feudalism  throughout  the  nation. 

In  1420  France  was  invaded  by  Henry  V.,  king  of  Eng- 
land. He  induced  the  imbecile  Charles  VI.  to  appoint 
him  his  heir,  and  to  give  him  his  daughter  Catherine  in 
marriage.  But  Charles  himself  survived  the  English  as- 
pirant, and  at  his  own  death  the  crown  descended  to  the 


INTRODUCTION.  1 7 

infant  son  of  Henry  V.,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  dauphin, 
who  had  assumed  the  title  of  Charles  VII.  A  bloody 
civil  war  was  the  result  of  this  ambitious  rivalry ;  but 
victory  was  at  length  won  to  the  standards  of  the  dau- 
phin; the  English  were  banished  from  the  territory  of 
France,  except  in  the  fortified  cities  of  Calais  and  Guienne ; 
and  the  name  and  services  of  Joan  of  Arc  were  rendered 
immortal  in  the  annals  of  heroism,  patriotism,  and  virtue. 

After  the  accession  of  Charles  VII.,  all  the  institutions 
of  France,  and  the  measures  of  the  government,  tended 
toward  the  establishment  of  the  regal  power.  He  first 
among  the  monarchs  of  France,  maintained  a  standing 
army.  He  adroitly  increased,  by  purchase  and  by  forfeit- 
ure, the  extent  of  the  crown  lands,  until  they  included  a 
not  inconsiderable  portion  of  the  French  territory.  He 
first  undertook  to  impose  taxes  without  the  consent  of 
the  states-general,  or  the  concurrence  of  the  feudal  lords. 

Under  the  stern  scepter  of  Louis  XI.  despotism  in 
France  became  more  cruel  and  more  absolute  than  it  had 
ever  been  before.  He  became  an  eminent  example  of 
tyranny  and  deceit.*  At  the  death  of  Charles  VIII.  the 
crown  passed  from  the  possession  of  the  Valois  branch  of 
the  house  of  Capet ;  and  by  the  accession  of  Louis  XII. 
in  1498,  the  Orleans  division  of  that  illustrious  family  as- 
cended the  throne.  With  Francis  I.,  in  1515,  the  second 
house  of  the  Valois  Capetians  resumed  the  sovereignty 
of  France.  During  this  period,  one  of  the  darkest  in  the 
annals  of  history,  the  nation  was  convulsed  and  scourged 
with  endless  wars,  both  political  and  religious.  France. 

*  His  favorite  maxim  was:  Dissimuler  c'estregner. 

2 


18  INTRODUCTION. 

was  deluged  with  human  blood.  The  persecutions  which 
the  Protestants,  or  Huguenots,  were  compelled  to  endure, 
have  forever  stained  the  history-  of  the  nation,  with  inef- 
faceable infamy  and  disgrace. 

These  cruelties  at  length  culminated  on  the  memorable 
and  bloody  eve  of  St.  Bartholomew ;  when  thousands  of 
the  best  and  bravest  citizens  of  France  were  massacred 
under  the  direction  of  Charles  IX.  and  his  sanguinary 
mother,  Catherine  de  Medici. 

Henry  IV.  was  the  first  Bourbon  prince  who  ascended 
the  throne  of  the  Capets.  His  auspicious  reign  began  in 
1589.  He  put  an  end  to  the  religious  wars  which,  for  so 
many  disastrous  years,  had  desolated  France.  He  pro- 
slaimed  the  celebrated  and  beneficent  edict  of  Nantes, 
which  guaranteed  to  the  Protestants  the  full  exercise  and 
enjoyment  of  their  religion.  The  period  of  his  reign  in- 
troduces us  to  that  more  memorable  era  in  French  history, 
when  greater  men  and  more  absorbing  incidents  appear 
upon  the  scene ;  and  demand  a  more  minute  survey  of 
the  remarkable  qualities  which  they  exhibited,  and  of  the 
important  and  permanent  results  which  they  produced. 


CHAPTER  I. 

FRANCE  UNDER  THE   ADMINISTRATION   OF   CARDINAL 
RICHELIEU. 

THE  illustrious  name  of  Richelieu  is  intimately  connect- 
ed with  the  power  and  glory  of  the  French  monarchy. 
Before  his  accession  to  his  high  place,  France  had  been  de- 
graded from  the  honorable  eminence  which  she  occupied 
at  the  death  of  Henry  IV.,  to  poverty,  imbecility,  and  con- 
tempt. The  vast  treasures  which  that  monarch  had  ac- 
cumulated, and  had  left  in  his  coffers  at  the  period  of  his 
decease,  had  been  lavishly  squandered  during  the  regency 
of  his  widow,  Mary  de  Medici.  The  court  and  the  nation 
had  become  impoverished.  The  fierce  contests  which 
raged  between  the  princes  of  the  royal  family  and  the 
nobles ;  the  insatiable  rapacity  of  the  courtiers ;  and  the 
ambitious  and  jealous  caprices  of  the  queen-regent,  had 
thrown  France  into  a  lamentable  state  of  prostration  and 
misery.  The  monarchy  possessed  no  firm  basis  of  power. 
Endless  dissensions  distracted  the  councils  of  the  minis- 
ters, unprincipled  aspirants  after  power  and  wealth  crowd- 
ed all  the  avenues  to  the  throne,  and  harassed  those  who 
held  the  feeble  reins  of  government,  with  plots,  intrigues, 
and  cabals.  The  favorites  of  the  court,  and  even  nobles 
of  high  and  honorable  birth,  exhibited  the  most  grasping 
and  unblushing  cupidity.  They  created  new  offices  and 
franchises.  They  levied  tolls  on  the  public  highways  and 
on  private  edifices.  They  devised  new  taxes  and  imposts. 


20     INFLUENCE  OF  RICHELIEU'S  ADMINISTRATION. 

All  France,  indeed,  seemed  to  have  been  given  up  to  pil- 
lage and  plunder;  while  the  multitude  of  the  offenders 
appeared  to  secure  the  immunity  of  each. 

The  strong  mind  of  Richelieu  discerned  the  intricate 
and  inveterate  nature  of  those  evils.  His  powerful  arm 
at  length  fell  with  a  crushing  blow  on  the  tottering  fabric 
of  the  feudal  system  in  France,  and  swept  it  away.  On  the 
ruins  of  that  system,  and  interwoven  with  the  ascending 
and  magnificent  proportions  of  the  structure  of  kingly 
power  which  he  reared,  he  also  created  the  leading  feat- 
ures and  outlines  of  the  gorgeous  edifice  of  modern  French 
civilization.  In  truth,  his  intellectual  character  was  as 
great  as  his  influence  was  powerful.  He  was  as  inflexi- 
ble as  he  was  sagacious.  He  was  as  persevering  as 
he  was  daring.  He  was  as  vindictive  and  revenge- 
ful as  he  was  ambitious.  He  was  as  unscrupulous  and 
unprincipled  as  he  was  fertile  in  resources.  He  remained 
as  undismayed  in  the  midst  ox  dangerous  conspiracies  and 
deadly  plots  against  his  life  and  power,  as  he  was  com- 
prehensive in  his  plans  of  conquest,  and  zealous  for  the 
aggrandizement  of  his  own  glory,  and  the  glory  of  his  king, 
which  he  cherished  with  a  love  second  only  to  that  which 
he  entertained  for  himself.  His  remarkable  career  forms 
a  great  epoch  in  French  history.  It  stands  forth  promi- 
nently, as  one  of  the  collossal  beacon-lights  which  remain 
towering  and  glittering  through  the  gloom  of  the  past ; 
and  in  the  wide  waste  of  by-gone  ages,  no  period  can  be 
i  named  which  looms  up  with  more  solemn  and  impressive 
grandeur  to  our  view,  than  his.  It  was  he  who  made 
France  the  most  important  country  in  Europe,  during  the 
period  of  his  ministry.  He  rendered  the  court  of  Louis 


BIRTH  AND  YOUTH  OF  RICHELIEU.  21 

XIII.  the  great  focus  of  political  power  and  interest 
throughout  that  continent.  And  when  he  died,  he  had 
prepared  the  way  for  the  gorgeous  reign  of  Louis  XIV 
which  succeeded;  during  which,  the  splendor  of  the 
French  monarchy  attained  its  unsurpassed,  and  even  its 
unequaled,  zenith. 

ARMAND  DTI  PLESSIS  RICHELIEU,  was  born  of  a  noble 
family,  at  Paris,  in  1585.  At  an  early  period  his  atten- 
tion was  directed  toward  the  army,  but  afterward  to  the 
church,  as  the  most  propitious  theater  of  his  future  career. 
In  pursuance  of  this  latter  expectation,  he  became  a  stu- 
dent of  the  Sorbonne,  in  1607,  where  he  completed  the 
usual  course  of  ecclesiastical  study.  He  then  entered  the 
priesthood.  During  this  early  period  of  his  life  he  was 
remarkable  for  his  intelligence,  his  wit,  and  his  gallantry. 
Neither  his  prudence  nor  his  religious  profession  prevented 
him  from  indulging  in  licentious  adventures,  to  the  ex- 
cessive and  shameful  degree  fashionable  at  that  period, 
among  all  classes  in  France.  But  these  excesses  did  not 
prevent  his  rapid  promotion  in  the  church,  for  partly 
through  the  influence  of  his  family,  and  partly  through  bis 
own  successful  and  skillful  intrigues,  he  was  consecrated 
bishop  of  Lugon,  at  the  earliest  period  of  his  age  permit- 
ted by  the  requirements  of  the  canon  law ;  and  he  thus 
took  his  place  among  the  ecclesiastical,  as  well  as  among 
the  secular  princes  of  the  realm. 

Henry  IV.  had  married  Mary  de  Medici,  the  daughter 
of  Francis  II.,  grand-duke  of  Tuscany.  This  princess  was 
destined  to  experience  the  most  singular  and  unparalleled 
extremes  of  fortune.  She  was  possessed  of  great  personal 
beauty,  and  strong  talents  for  political  intrigue.  But 


£2  DEATH  OF  HENRY  IV. 

neither  her  beauty  nor  her  talents  could  bind  to  her  the 
fickle  heart  of  her  husband.  She  became  the  mother  of 
two  princes,  one  of  whom  afterward  ascended  the  throne 
under  the  name  of  Louis  XIII.  Fearful  of  her  aspiring 
nature,  her  husband  had  never  allowed  the  ceremony  of 
her  coronation  to  take  place.  At  length,  however,  during 
an  interval  of  confidence  and  good  feeling  between  them, 
Henry  IV.  consented  to  the  celebration  of  that  event. 
Accordingly,  on  the  13th  of  May,  1610,  Mary  de  Medici 
was  solemnly  crowned  queen  of  France ;  and  on  the  14th, 
Henry  fell  a  victim  to  the  dagger  of  the  assassin  Ravaillac! 
His  death  was  very  naturally  attributed,  by  those  best 
acquainted  with  the  court  secrets  of  that  dismal  and  dan- 
gerous period,  to  the  vindictive,  ambitious  and  revenge- 
ful spirit  of  the  Italian  queen. 

This  princess  immediately  became  regent  of  France, 
and  her  power,  despotic,  whimsical,  and  pernicious  as  it 
was,  continued  undiminished  during  the  minority  of  her 
son.  The  court  and  the  administration  were  constantly 
split  up  into  desperate  and  dangerous  factions,  and  France 
seemed  rapidly  to  be  approaching  to  the  verge  of  ruin. 
The  eyes  of  the  queen-regent  were  at  length  opened  to 
the  perilous  state  of  the  kingdom ;  and  she  ordered  and 
proclaimed  the  assembling  of  the  states-general,  for  the 
purpose  of  aiding  the  sovereign  in  the  correction  and  re- 
moval of  the  existing  evils.  This  was  the  last  time  that 
this  body  was  convoked  in  France,  until  it  was  summoned 
to  meet  by  the  unfortunate  Louis  XVI.,  amid  the  rolling 
of  the  thunder  which  presaged  the  approaching  storms  of 
the  first  great  revolution.  It  was  in  this  convocation  of  the 
states-general,  thus  summoned  by  Mary  de  Medici,  that 


FIRST  PUBLIC  APPEARA1SCE  OF  RICHELIEU.        23 

the  illustrious  Richelieu  first  appears  upon  the  public  po- 
litical stage  of  France. 

On  this  occasion  Richelieu  acted  as  speaker  for  the  ec- 
clesiastical order.  In  the  assembly,  the  three  orders  con- 
tended fiercely  for  their  respective  interests  ;  and  their 
jealous  conflicts  rendered  their  deliberations  utterly  use- 
less to  the  state.  The  tiers  etat  contended,  among  other 
things,  that  a  decree  should  be  passed,  to  the  effect  that 
kings  could  in  no  case  be  deposed  for  heresy.  They  de- 
sired that  the  sovereign  should  be  declared  entirely  free 
from  the  spiritual  power.  This  proposition  Richelieu  op- 
posed with  great  eloquence  and  subtlety.  At  that  period 
of  his  career,  he  was  on  terms  of  amity  with  Mary  de 
Medici,  who  was  a  bigoted  Catholic.  She  ruled  her  son, 
the  dauphin.  The  priests  ruled  her.  And  Richelieu^  be- 
ing still  identified  with  the  ecclesiastical  order,  ruled  the 
priests.  Hence  his  interests  dictated  his  policy  on  this,  as 
on  all  other  occasions.  The  dissensions,  however,  which 
divided  the  three  orders,  soon  became  so  fierce  that  Mary 
de  Medici  dissolved  their  assemblage,  before  their  delib- 
erations had  produced  any  results,  either  favorable  or  un- 
favorable to  her  power. 

In  1616  Louis  XIII.  was  married  to  the  Spanish  In- 
fanta. This  princess  is  better  known  in  history  under  the 
name  of  Anne  of  Austria.  On  the  occurrence  of  this 
event,  the  old  ministry  of  the  regency,  consisting  of  the 
president,  Jeannon  Villeroi,  and  the  chancellor,  Silleri,  were 
dismissed.  A  new  administration  was  formed  in  place  of 
the  barbons,  or  dotards,  who  had  been  removed ;  at  the 
head  of  which  was  placed  the  prince  de  Conde.  Into 
that  ministry  Richelieu  was  also  admitted;  and  thus. 


24  RICHELIEU  ADMITTED  TO  THE  CABINET. 

for  the  first  time,  he  came  directly  in  contact  with  the 
machinery  of  state.  Nor  was  it  long  before  he  made  hia 
powerful  mind  felt  in  the  deliberations  of  the  ministers, 
and  in  the  measures  adopted  by  the  government.  It  was 
Conde's  purpose  to  retain  the  supreme  power  by  weaken- 
ing that  of  Mary  de  Medici  with  her  son.  A  long  and 
bitter  conflict  ensued ;  during  which  Richelieu  apparently 
took  the  part  of  the  queen-mother.  At  first  the  influence 
of  the  latter  was  triumphant ;  Conde  was  dismissed  from 
his  post  and  imprisoned  in  the  Bastille.  Concini,  the 
Italian  confidant  and  favorite  of  the  queen-mother,  as- 
sumed his  place  and  his  power.  But  soon,  with  the  va- 
cillation so  usual  in  the  history  of  ministers,  and  of  gov- 
ernments, the  tide  of  regal  favor  turned,  Concini  was  de- 
graded and  assassinated ;  and  the  old  ministry,  with  Vil- 
leroi  at  their  head,  returned  to  the  possession  of  power. 
The  queen-mother  was  then,  for  the  first  time,  exiled 
from  the  court  by  the  command  of  her  son.  She  fixed  her 
residence  at  Blois ;  and  Richelieu,  who  had  adopted  the 
resolution  to  conciliate  both  parties,  and  thus,  at  length, 
to  rise  upon  the  strength  of  both,  accompanied  her.  His 
object  was,  that  while  he  seemed  to  share  with  Mary  de 
Medici  in  the  ignominy  of  her  banishment,  he  might  act 
as  a  spy  upon  her  movements,  worm  himself  into  her  coun- 
cils, and  then  betray  them  to  the  king.  He  found  a  favora- 
ble field  for  the  execution  of  this  purpose,  in  the  restless 
and  insatiable  spirit  of  intrigue,  which  was  the  great  char- 
acteristic, the  bane,  and  the  disgrace  of  Mary  de  Medici. 
It  was  the  shrewd  purpose  of  Richelieu,  after  hostilities 
between  the  royal  combatants  had  reached  a  certain 
pomt,  to  step  in  as  conciliator  between  them;  render 


HIS  VIGOROUS  ADMINISTRATION.  25 

important  services  to  both ;  and  be  rewarded  by  them 
with  the  highest  post  of  influence  and  honor  hi  the  state. 
The  event  fulfilled  the  expectations  thus  entertained  by' 
the  crafty  courtier.  Mary  de  Medici  escaped  from  Blois, 
through  the  agency  of  the  duke  d'Epernon,  the  governor 
of  Metz ;  and  by  him  and  his  attendants  she  was  con- 
ducted to  Angouleme.  The  king,  Louis  XIII.,  on  hear- 
ing of  her  escape  from  the  place  assigned  her  for  her  resi- 
dence, was  at  first  disposed  to  take  severe  and  vindictive 
measures.  But  Richelieu  found  means  of  suggesting  gen- 
tler purposes  to  the  royal  son  of  so  willful  and  determined 
a  mother ;  and  as  soon  as  it  was  resolved  to  take  the  lat- 
ter alternative,  Richelieu  offered  his  services  as  negotia- 
tor. The  king  ceded  to  Mary  de  Medici  the  government 
of  Anjou ;  and  three  cities  were  also  given  up  to  her  as 
hostages  for  the  future  conduct  of  the  king.  Conde  was 
restored  to  his  former  confidence  and  honor  in  the  minis- 
try. The  queen-mother  returned  to  Paris,  and  was  rec- 
onciled to  her  son.  All  the  grounds  of  hostility  and  jeal- 
ousy which  had  distracted  the  royal  family  for  five  years, 
were  apparently  buried  in  oblivion;  and  Richelieu  re- 
ceived the  reward  of  his  exertions,  in  the  confidence  and 
esteem  of  both  parties.  It  was  after  effecting  this  memo- 
rable reconciliation  between  the  king  and  his  mother,  that 
Richelieu  was  elevated  to  the  post  of  prime  minister  of 
France.  It  was  then,  also,  that  he  received  the  promise 
of  the  cardinal's  hat,  which  was  soon  obtained  for  him  at 
Rome,  through  the  joint  influence  and  agency  of  the  sov- 
ereign and  his  mother. 

At  length,  then,  we  behold  the  crafty,  ambitious,  and 

sagacious  churchman,  elevated  to  the  dizzy  and  danger- 
B 


OQ  HIS  ARROGANT  MOTTO. 

ous  eminence  to  which  he  had  boldly  aspired ;  and  from 
this  moment  commenced  one  of  the  most  extraordinary- 
administrations  which  has  ever  illustrated  the  history  of 
nations.  This  event  occurred  in  the  year  1624.  During 
the  space  of  eighteen  years  afterward,  Richelieu  continued 
to  be  the  leading,  the  most  imposing,  and  the  central  fig- 
ure in  the  history  of  Europe ;  the  arbiter  of  the  fate  of 
millions  of  men,  and  the  absolute  governor  of  the  hearts 
and  fortunes  of  mighty  kings  and  princes. 

Previous  to  the  elevation  of  Richelieu  to  the  post  of 
prime  minister,  Louis  XIII.  had  governed  France  with  a 
feeble  and  trembling  hand.  The  secret  deliberations  of 
the  royal  councils  were  usually  well  known,  almost  before 
the  termination  of  the  sittings  at  which  they  had  taken 
place.  Richelieu  at  once  seized  the  reins  of  government 
with  a  firm  and  powerful  grasp,  and  rendered  himself, 
until  the  day  of  his  death,  absolutely  indispensable  to  his 
feeble  master,  whom  he  inspired  with  a  sentiment  of  fear 
and  respect,  not  unmingled  with  jealous,  yet  impotent 
hatred.  So  absolute  did  the  crafty  cardinal  soon  become, 
that  it  was  with  very  considerable  truth  that,  in  speaking 
of  the  direction  of  the  government,  he  declared  that  the 
proper  form  for  him  to  use  in  reference  to  it,  was  Ego, 
et  Hex  meus. 

Such  successful  ambition,  it  might  readily  be  supposed, 
would  soon  raise  around  the  minister  indignant  and  pow- 
erful rivals,  who  would  attempt  by  every  possible  means 
to  diminish  his  influence,'  to  precipitate  him  from  his  high 
eminence,  and  to  compass  his  ruin.  Not  the  least  convinc- 
ing evidence  of  the  consummate  abilities  of  Richelieu,  is 
to  be  found  in  the  success  with  which  he  discovered,  dis- 


DUKE  OF  BUCKINGHAM.  27 

comfited,  crushed,  and  punished  the  most  skillful  combi- 
nations which  were  ever  formed  against  him.    At  the 
head  of  one  of  the  most  dangerous  of  these,  was  Gaston, 
the  duke  of  Orleans,  and  brother  of  the  king.     During 
the  visit  of  the  duke  of  Buckingham  to  France,  to  nego- 
tiate a  marriage  between  the  future  king  of  England,  then 
prince  of  Wales,  and  Henrietta,  the  king's  sister,  the  in- 
sufferable arrogance  of  the  English  embassador  had  of- 
fended  and  disgusted  the  French  minister.     A  deadly 
hostility  between  these  able  men  was  the  consequence ; 
nor  was  that  hostility  diminished  when  Richelieu  saw  that 
Buckingham  even  dared  to  intrigue  with  Anne  of  Aus- 
tria, his  master's  queen,  for  whom  he  himself  indulged  an 
improper  fondness.     The  object  of  the  conspiracy  against 
Richelieu,   which  followed,   was  intended  to   dethrone 
Louis  XIII.,  to  place  his  brother,  the  duke  of  Orleans,  on 
the  throne,  to  remove  Richelieu  from  power,  and  to  inflict 
retributive  punishment  on  him  and  his  adherents,  for  all 
the  indignities  which  they  had  haughtily  imposed  on  their 
rivals.     Richelieu  detected  this  conspiracy,  and  commu- 
nicated it  to  the  king,  and  to  the  queen-mother.    Imme- 
diately Colonel  Ornam,  one  of  the  conspirators,  the  gov- 
ernor and  confidant  of  the  duke  of  Orleans,  was  arrested 
by  the  orders  of  the  minister,  and  thrown  into  the  Bas- 
tille.   He  languished  there  in  the  deepest  arid  darkest  dun- 
geon of  that  fortress  until  his  death.     Count  Chalais,  an- 
other of  the  conspirators,  together  with  the  count  de 
Soissons,  the  duke  de  Vendome,  his  brother  the  grand 
prior  Vendome,  Barabas,  the  able  Scaglia,  his  associates 
and  confederates,  each  severely  felt  the  dreadful  effects 
of  the  triumphant  vengeance  of  Richelieu.     Even  the 


28  SIEGE  OF  LA  ROCHELLE. 

duke  of  Orleans  himself,  who  had  proposed  to  marry  the 
wife  of  Louis  XIII.,  in  the  event  of  his  deposition  and 
death,  was  compelled  to  purchase  his  immunity  by  mar- 
rying Mademoiselle  de  Montpensier ;  and  by  abandoning 
ah1  his  friends  to  his  powerful  and  vindictive  foe.  At 
the  instance  of  the  latter,  even  the  queen  herself  was 
summoned  before  the  council  and  severely  reprimanded 
by  the  sovereign,  for  the  acquiescence  which  she  was  sup- 
posed to  have  given  to  the  projects  of  the  conspirators. 
Scores  of  noblemen  of  distinguished  birth  and  powerful 
connections,  were  buried  beneath  the  turrets  of  the  Bas- 
tille, as  the  penalty  for  having  been  implicated  in  this  first 
plot  against  the  minister,  and  a  guard  of  musketeers  was 
thenceforth  assigned  him,  for  the  future  preservation  of 
his  personal  security. 

The  city  and  fortress  of  La  Rochelle  had  long  been  the 
strong-hold  of  Protestant  or  Huguenot  discontent  in 
France.  It  had  successfully  resisted,  either  by  force  of 
arms  or  by  bribery,  every  attempt  which  had  been  made 
by  the  predecessors  of  Louis  XIII.  to  capture  it.  Rich- 
elieu resolved  to  accomplish  what  had  surpassed  the  abili- 
ties of  kings  and  ministers  before  him.  The  princess  de 
Rohan,  a  person  eminent  for  her  high  birth,  her  heroism, 
and  her  devotion  to  the  Protestant  cause,  commanded  the 
city  and  its  defenders.  Richelieu  sent  a  numerous  army, 
under  the  orders  of  Marshal  Schomberg,  to  besiege  the 
works.  The  duke  of  Buckingham,  who,  after  his  return 
to  England,  never  forgot  n6r  forgave  the  indignities  which 
were  inflicted  on  him  by  the  cardinal  during  his  late  so- 
journ in  France,  prepared  to  assist  the  Rochellois  with  an 
English  fleet.  The  latter  were  themselves  extremely  de- 


ITS  CAPTURE.  29 

termined  and  enthusiastic  in  their  resistance  to  the  at- 
tacks of  the  army  of  the  king  of  France.  They  chose  a 
new  burgess  at  this  crisis,  and  when  he  was  inducted  into 
office,  he  presented  a  poniard  to  the  magistrates  and  said : 
"I  accept  the  office  of  burgess,  only  on  condition  that 
this  poinard  shall  be  plunged  into  the  heart  of  the  first 
traitor  who  shall  dare  to  speak  of  surrender ;  and  against 
myself,  if  I  ever  propose  capitulation !  " 

Richelieu  but  laughed  at  the  vaunting  fortitude  of  the 
heroes  of  Rochelle.  He  built  a  gigantic  mole  into  the 
sea,  fourteen  hundred  feet  in  length,  which  effectually  pre- 
vented the  approach  of  the  besieging  ships,  and  of  the  suc- 
cors from  England.  Louis  XIII.  sojourned  in  person  in 
the  French  camp ;  and  just  as  the  duke  of  Buckingham 
was  about  to  embark  on  the  last  squadron  of  the  fleet 
which  left  England,  he  was  assassinated  by  an  emmissary 
of  the  cardinal,  named  Felton,  an  Englishman.  At  length, 
after  one  of  the  most  memorable  sieges  on  record,  which 
continued  with  fluctuating  fortunes  during  a  whole  year, 
Rochelle  capitulated.  The  city  was  stripped  of  all  its 
privileges ;  the  works  were  manned  with  the  victorious 
troops  of  the  king ;  and  the  triumph  of  the  cardinal  in 
this  uncertain  and  difficult  entei*prise,  was  absolute  and 
complete.  His  exultation  and  the  growth  of  his  power 
were  in  proportion  augmented. 

Previous  to  this  period  in  the  history  of  this  remarka- 
ble man,  he  had  uniformly  acted  on  the  sagacious  princi- 
ple of  courting  the  good  will  of  Mary  de  Medici,  the 
queen-mother.  His  sagacity  had  readily  taught  him  that 
his  master,  the  king,  possessing  by  nature  a  soft  and  pli 
ant  disposition,  would,  until  he  arrived  at  a  certain  age, 


30  RICHELIEU  AND  MARY  DE  MEDICL 

remain  in  a  great  measure  subject  to  the  influence  of  his 
mother.  Therefore,  until  Louis  XIII.  arrived  at  that  age, 
Richelieu  flattered  and  courted  his  mother,  and  through 
her,  he  ruled  her  son  the  more  absolutely.  But  after  the 
king  had  reached  the  period  of  which  we  now  speak,  the 
maternal  influence  over  him  became  weakened,  and  he 
was  taught  by  the  crafty  cardinal  that  he  was  at  length 
old  enough  to  throw  off  those  leading-strings  which  once 
had  controlled  him,  and  to  think  and  act  for  himself.  The 
object  of  the  prelate  in  giving  this  advice,  was  to  dimin- 
ish the  number  of  his  own  royal  masters,  and  servants  ; 
so  that,  instead  of  being  compelled  to  serve  and  govern 
two,  he  might  only  serve  and  govern  one.  This  was  the 
origin  of  that  most  remarkable  and  malignant  conflict, 
which  about  the  year  1628,  began  between  Richelieu  and 
Mary  de  Medici,  a  conflict  which  lasted  during  the  remain- 
der of  their  lives  with  unabated  intensity  ;  which  involved 
the  royal  family  in  constant  broils  and  disgraceful  tem- 
pests ;  which  finally  drove  the  unfortunate  queen-mother 
from  home  and  country ;  which  imbittered  her  days  with 
the  keenest  suffering  and  mortification ;  and  which  at  last 
compelled  her  to  die  in  a  foreign  country,  in  solitude,  pov- 
erty, and  misery,  such  as  finds  no  parallel  hi  the  chequered 
page  of  human  vicissitude. 

Mary  de  Medici  was  a  remarkable  woman ;  and  one 
every  way  difficult  to  govern  or  control.  Partly  from 
long  habit,  and  partly  from  her  natural  disposition,  she 
felt  an  irresistible  temptation  to  interfere  in  affairs  of 
state,  and  to  influence  her  son,  the  king.  During  the  mi- 
nority of  the  latter,  she  exercised  that  influence  over  him 
by  right,  as  queen-regent.  After  the  majority  of  the 


CHARACTER  OF  MARY  DE  MEDICI.  31 

king,  she  claimed  to  exercise  the  same  supremacy  by 
courtesy,  as  queen-mother.  In  either  case,  her  assump- 
tions would  have  been  repugnant  to  the  insatiable  ambi- 
tion of  Richelieu ;  and  hence  arose  the  deadly  and  life- 
long struggle  between  them.  Nor  had  Richelieu  an  easy 
task  to  perform  in  crushing  the  spirit,  and  destroying  the 
influence  of  Mary.  She  was  a  woman  of  warm  and  often 
generous  impulses.  She  possessed  great  resolution  of  pur- 
pose, and  determination  of  will.  She  was  free  from  the 
vices  of  hypocrisy  and  deceit.  She  neither  possessed,  nor 
pretended  to  the  possession  of,  any  skill  in  the  subtle  arts 
of  deception  and  diplomacy ;  and  it  is  certainly  very  high 
praise  for  her  that,  though  she  was  a  woman  of  warm 
temperament,  though  she  was  a  native  of  ardent  Italy, 
and  though  she  lived  in  the  most  licentious  and  dissolute 
court  in  Europe,  no  breath  of  scandal  has  ever  dared  to 
impeach  her  stainless  virtue.  She  was  also  constant  in 
her  friendships.  But  on  the  contrary,  the  character  of 
Mary  de  Medici  was  tarnished  by  many  great  and  glaring 
blemishes.  She  was  so  obstinate  that  reason  rarely  effect- 
ed any  change  in  her  first-formed  purposes.  She  was  vin- 
dictive and  revengeful  in  the  extreme.  She  could  not 
endure  either  reproof  or  opposition,  with  the  least  show 
of  seemly  grace ;  and  when  her  rivals  or  opponents  had 
once  incurred  her  hatred,  she  rarely  or  never  forgave. 
Hence  her  whole  life,  after  the  rise  of  the  stern  and  unre- 
lenting Richelieu  to  power,  was  one  continual  scene  of 
mortification,  of  indignant  conflict,  and  of  impotent  re- 
sistance to  his  supremacy.  And  while  her  qualities  were 
admirably  adapted  to  call  forth  the  hostile  powers  of  the 
cardinal,  they  were  also  such  as  to  lay  her  open  to  his  in- 


32  MARRIAGE  OF  GASTON. 

sidious  and  wily  nature,  and  to  give  him  every  advan- 
tage over  her  movements,  and  over  her  destiny. 

The  first  notorious  outburst  of  passion  and  jealousy  be- 
tween these  celebrated  rivals,  was  in  reference  to  the  sec- 
ond marriage  of  Gaston,  the  duke  of  Orleans,  the  brother 
of  Louis  XIII.  This  marriage  had  become  a  matter  of 
great  importance,  inasmuch  as  Anne  of  Austria,  the  wife 
of  the  king,  had  for  many  years  remained  childless,  and 
because  the  health  of  Louis  XIII.  was  precarious.  In 
case  of  his  death  without  issue,  Gaston  would  ascend  the 
vacant  throne.  The  duke  of  Mantua  desired  that  his 
daughter  should  become  the  future  queen.  But  Mary  de 
Medici  had  entered  with  all  the  unconquerable  ardor  and 
resolution  of  her  nature,  into  the  project  of  obtaining  for 
her  son  an  alliance  with  one  of  her  own  relatives,  Anne 
de  Medici.  The  duke  of  Orleans  really  felt  an  attach- 
ment for  the  daughter  of  the  duke  of  Mantua.  The  in- 
triguing mind  of  Richelieu  could  not,  of  course,  remain 
idle  during  the  progress  of  this  important  rivalry.  The 
duke  of  Orleans  applied  for  advice  to  the  king.  The  king 
applied  for  counsel  to  Richelieu.  And  Richelieu,  to  pre- 
vent the  further  growth  of  the  power  and  influence  of 
Mary  de  Medici,  advised  the  king  to  permit  his  brother 
to  marry  the  princess  of  Mantua.  Meanwhile,  the  queen- 
mother  expressed  her  hostile  and  contemptuous  feelings 
toward  the  protege  of  the  cardinal,  in  the  most  public 
an  insulting  manner ;  and  the  consequence  was,  the  ex- 
istence of  the  most  bitter  and  implacable  enmity  between 
all  the  parties  concerned  in  the  conflict.  And  it  was  ap- 
parent that,  to  whomsoever  the  unlucky  duke  would 
eventually  be  married,  a  deadly  hatred  would  be  enter 


SICKNESS  OF  LOUIS  XIII.  33 

tained  by  the  disappointed  faction  toward  the  successful 
aspirant,  and  toward  all  those  who  had  contributed  to  her 
triumph. 

During  the  hostilities  earned  on  in  1630,  by  Louis  XIII. 
against  the  duke  of  Savoy,  the  king  remained  with  his 
army  in  the  field,  attended  by  the  cardinal.  Peace  being 
concluded — the  terms  of  which  being  greatly  in  favor  of 
France — the  king  and  cardinal  resumed  their  journey  to- 
ward Paris,  in  August  of  that  year.  At  Lyons  the  king 
became  ill,  and  serious  apprehensions  were  entertained 
that  his  end  approached.  The  wife  and  mother  of  the 
king  were  also  present  with  him ;  and  while  the  apparent 
danger  of  the  monarch  continued,  they  plotted  with  in- 
tense and  malignant  activity,  to  accomplish  the  ruin  of  the 
cardinal  the  moment  the  king  should  expire.  But  Louis, 
contrary  to  their  wishes,  recovered.  His  disease  was 
nothing  more  than  an  imposthume  in  the  stomach,  which 
eventually  broke,  and  the  matter  being  discharged,  the 
king  recovered  more  than  his  usual  health.  But  during 
this  interval  of  suspense,  the  two  queens,  the  two  M aril- 
lacs,  the  one  the  keeper  of  the  seals,  and  the  other  the  mar- 
shal, Vautier,  the  first  physician  to  the  queen,  the  princess 
de  Conti,  the  duchess  d'Elbouef,  the  countess  de  Fargis, 
and  some  others,  had  formed  a  powerful  cabal  against 
the  cardinal,  which  the  unexpected  recovery  of  the  king 
for  the  present  baffled. 

The  king  and  his  suite  returned  to  Paris,  but  the  sup- 
pressed volcano  still  burned  with  intense,  though  hidden 
fury.  The  cardinal  had  been  informed,  by  bis  secret 
agents,  of  aU  that  had  transpired.  While  the  king  lay 

sick  at  Lyons,  his  apprehensions  had  been  aroused,  and 
B*  3 


34  BASSOMPIERRE. 

he  began  to  take  measures  for  his  safety,  in  the  event  of  the 
king's  death.  Among  other  things,  he  requested  Mar- 
shal Bassompierre  to  grant  him  the  use  of  the  Swiss  guards 
as  an  escort,  until  he  should  have  arrived  in  Langeudoc, 
at  a  retreat  which  he  had  there  chosen.  The  marshal  re- 
fused ;  and  in  the  sequel,  was  made  a  memorable  victim 
of  the  cardinal's  insatiable  revenge. 

On  their  arrival  in  Paris  the  hostility  of  the  cardinal 
and  Mary  de  Medici  broke  out  afresh.  Louis  repaired  in 
person  to  the  palace  of  the  Luxembourg,  in  which  the 
queen-mother  resided,  for  the  purpose  of  effecting  a  rec- 
onciliation. He  ordered  the  cardinal  to  be  in  attendance, 
in  an  adjoining  apartment.  Mary  de  Medici  broke  forth 
in  transports  of  rage  and  abuse  against  her  powerful  and 
wily  enemy,  as  soon  as  the  interview  began.  The  king 
in  vain  attempted  to  appease  her.  Hoping  that  the  pres- 
ence of  the  cardinal  might,  perhaps,  have  that  effect,  he 
ordered  him  to  enter  the  room.  As  soon  as  he  appeared, 
she  poured  a  torrent  of  abuse  upon  him.  She  stigmatized 
him  as  a  villain,  an  ungrateful,  malignant  wretch.  She 
called  him  the  disturber  of  the  public  peace.  She  de- 
clared that  he  had  usurped  the  power  of  the  king,  and 
that  he  made  the  whole  court  and  nation  subservient  to 
his  selfish  and  unprincipled  ambition.  Rising  from  her 
seat,  she  approached  the  cardinal,  who  remained  standing 
in  an  humble  attitude  during  this  extraordinary  scene, 
and  pointing  her  finger  at  him,  she  exclaimed  to  the  king, 
in  a  transport  of  rage— "  There  is  the  man  who  would 
willingly  deprive  you  of  your  crown,  to  place  it  on  the 
head  of  the  count  de  Soissons,  who  is  to  marry  his  niece, 
La  Combalet ! " 


RAGE  OF  MARY  DE  MEDICI.  35 

Overcome  by  the  intensity  of  her  emotions,  the  unhappy 
queen-mother  sank  into  her  chair,  and  burst  into  tears. 
The  wily  cardinal,  who  knew  best  how  to  act  under  these 
extraordinary  circumstances,  remained  silent.  The  king 
spoke  for  him,  as  he  intended  that  he  should.  He  de- 
clared that  the  cardinal  had  been  a  faithful  and  able  ser- 
vant to  him ;  but  at  the  same  time,  he  ordered  him  to  re- 
tire. The  king  was  left  alone  with  his  mother.  The 
latter  then  resumed  her  endeavors  to  effect  the  ruin  of  her 
foe.  She  appealed  to  every  possible  consideration  which 
ought  to  influence  the  monarch.  She  was  his  mother ; 
she  had  borne  him  under  her  bosom ;  she  had  brought 
him  into  the  world ;  he  carried  in  his  veins  her  blood ;  she 
loved  him  only  as  a  mother  could  love ;  and  yet  "  that 
cursed  caitiff,  the  cardinal,"  had  treated  her  with  every  in- 
dignity ;  had  destroyed  her  influence  over  his  mind,  and 
her  credit  in  the  court ;  he  had  ruined  her  happiness ; 
and  the  sight  of  his  daily  triumph  over  her  imbittered 
her  whole  existence.  At  the  same  tune,  he  was  nothing 
but  a  selfish  adventurer.  He  cared  not  a  straw  for  the 
king,  save  as  the  instrument  of  his  ambition,  and  his  re- 
venge. He  oppressed  the  people,  the  nobility,  and  the 
court.  He  united  all  riches,  honors,  dignities,  in  himself. 
Could  a  dutiful  son  hesitate  a  moment  how  to  choose  be- 
tween his  own  mother,  and  such  a  wretch  ?  The  voice  of 
reason  and  of  religion  dictated  but  one  course,  and  that 
course  was,  to  put  an  end  at  once  and  forever  to  the  dis- 
graceful and  malignant  tyranny  of  the  cardinal. 

The  violence  of  the  conduct  of  the  queen-mother  defeat- 
ed its  own  purposes.  The  king  was  disgusted,  rather  than 
won.  He  retired,  determined  upon  the  very  opposite 


36  HER  TEMPORARY  TRIUMPH. 

course  demanded  by  his  mother.  In  truth,  LouisXIII.  was 
a  weak  and  unprincipled  creature,  over  whose  feeble  inind 
Richelieu  had  acquired  an  absolute  dominion.  All  he 
cared  for  was  his  own  security  and  ease ;  and  to  the  pos- 
session of  these,  the  talents  and  services  of  the  cardinal 
were  indispensably  necessary.  The  king  had  but  little 
discernment ;  yet  that  little  was  just  enough  to  enable  him 
to  see  that  there  was  no  one  who  could  fill  the  place  of 
Richelieu ;  and  hence  he  determined  that  nothing  should 
lisplace  or  degrade  him. 

But  at  that  moment,  these  purposes  of  the  king  were  un- 
known to  both  of  the  hostile  parties.  When  he  left  the  pres- 
ence of  the  king  and  queen-mother,  Richelieu  himself  ex- 
pected his  disgrace.  He  hastened  to  his  palace,  and  com- 
menced immmediately  to  pack  up  his  papers,  to  burn  the 
most  dangerous  of  them,  and  to  secure  his  plate  and  jewels. 
He  intended  to  retire  to  Brouage,  of  which  place  he  was  the 
governor,  in  order  to  escape  the  vengeance  of  his  numer- 
ous and  po\v  erful  enemies. 

During  this  short  interval,  a  singular  scene  was  presented 
at  the  palace  of  the  Luxembourg,  the  residence  of  the 
queen-mother.  Mary  de  Medici  seemed  certain  of  her 
triumph.  Her  exultation  was  beyond  all  bounds.  Soon 
the  welcome  news  flew  through  the  whole  court  circle,  that 
the  powerful,  the  feared,  the  hated  cardinal  was  about  to  fall 
from  his  dizzy  eminence,  and  to  meet  that  rum  which  he  had 
inflicted  on  so  many  others.  The  drawing-rooms  of  the 
quetm-moth-3r  were  crowded  with  the  happy  and  exulting 
multitude  of  Ivsr  fvt<iuids.  Plans  of  vengeance  and  humilia- 
tion were  dftust\i>  to  render  the  fall  of  the  cardinal  more 
mortifying  aai  oomplete ;  and  congratulations  were  of- 


PERPLEXITY  OF  THE  KING.  37 

fered  to  the  queen-mother,  and  to  all  her  favorites,  that 
now,  at  last,  the  era  of  their  triumph  had  arrived. 

While  this  gay  and  premature  scene  was  passing  at  the 
Luxembourg,  on  November  llth,  1630  ;  and  while  Riche- 
lieu was  hastily  preparing  to  escape  from  the  impending 
ruin,  the  king  repaired  to  Versailles.  There  he  threw 
himself  on  his  bed,  and  declared  to  his  favorite,  St.  Simon, 
that  he  felt  as  if  he  were  inwardly  on  fire  ;  and  that  the 
violence  of  his  mother  had  so  disconcerted  him  that  he 
could  find  rest  nowhere.  After  a  short  interval  his  feeble 
mind  reverted  to  its  usual  prop,  the  cardinal,  and  he  sent 
for  him  to  come  immediately  to  his  presence.  Richelieu 
instantly  complied  with  this  welcome  order.  He  threw 
himself  at  the  king's  feet,  and  thanked  him  as  the  best, 
the  most  constant,  the  most  indulgent  master  that  ever 
the  sun  had  shone  upon.  The  monarch  assured  him  ot 
his  continued  favor,  and  told  him  to  dismiss  his  fears. 
Richelieu  at  the  same  time  adroitly  said,  that  he  could  not 
accept  the  honor  of  remaining  near  the  person  of  the  king, 
for  fear  of  being  the  cause  of  a  scandalous  separation  be- 
tween a  mother  and  her  son.  He  would  seek  some  soli- 
tude where  he  could  weep  over  the  fact,  that  he  had  been 
compelled  to  seem  an  ingrate  to  his  benefactress,  the 
queen-mother,  in  consequence  of  his  paramount  devotion 
to  the  more  important  interests  of  her  son.  He  kissed 
the  king's  feet  and  then  rose.  Louis  then  again  com- 
manded him  to  remain  in  his  office  of  prime  minister,  and 
even  divulged  the  names  of  those  who,  in  addition  to  his 
mother,  had  been  most  active  in  making  unfavorable  rep- 
resentations to  him  against  the  cardinal. 

The  triumph  of  Richelieu  over  this  powerful  cabal  soon 


38  RICHELIEU  TRIUMPHS  OVER  THE  CABAL. 

became  known ;  and  in  a  day,  the  saloons  of  the  Lux- 
embourg became  a  perfect  solitude.  Of  all  the  crowds 
of  courtiers  who,  a  few  hours  before  had  congratulated 
Mary  de  Medici  upon  her  supposed  triumph,  not  one  was 
there  to  be  seen !  The  queen-mother  discovered,  when 
too  late,  how  impregnable  the  power  of  Richelieu  had 
become ;  and  from  that  moment  he  determined  to  effect 
her  ruin,  and  the  ruin  of  all  who  in  any  way  had  taken 
sides  with  her  against  him.  This  transitory  triumph  of 
the  queen-mother  and  her  friends,  has  been  justly  termed 
in  all  succeeding  time  la  journee  des  Dupes — the  day  of 
the  dupes ! 

The  vengeance  of  the  cardinal  was  terrible,  and  the 
gratification  of  it  became  one  of  the  great  aims  of  his  sub- 
sequent life.  The  Marillacs,  Montmorenci,  the  princess 
de  Conti,  Marshal  Bassompierre,  and  many  others,  were 
ruined  as  victims  to  his  insatiable  revenge.  Some  expired 
upon  the  wheel  of  torture,  or  on  the  scaffold.  Others  were 
imprisoned  in  the  Bastille,  and  spent  many  years  in  solita- 
ry and  cheerless  confinement.  Among  the  latter  was  the 
case  of  Marshal  Bassompierre.  This  man  was  one  of  the 
most  accomplished,  distinguished,  and  fascinating  cour- 
tiers and  generals  of  that  period.  He  had  become  cele- 
brated for  his  victories,  when  commanding  the  French  ar- 
mies ;  and  he  had  acquitted  himself  with  high  honor  in 
several  embassies  of  great  importance  which  had  been  in- 
trusted to  him.  Nor  was  he  less  celebrated  in  the  gentler 
arts  of  love.  It  is  a  circumstance  which  serves  to  illus- 
trate the  state  of  morals  prevalent  in  the  court  of  which 
a  prelate  and  a  churchman  was  the  acknowledged  head, 
that  Bassompierre,  immediately  before  his  arrest,  and  in 


BASSOMPIERRE'S  IMPRISONMENT.  39 

apprehension  of  that  event,  on  the  24th  of  February,  1631, 
burnt  more  than  six  thousand  love-letters  which  he  had 
received  from  different  ladies,  and  which  would  have  com- 
promised the  honor  of  the  most  distinguished  families  in 
the  kingdom !  Bassompierre  was  confined  in  the  Bastille 
for  twelve  years ;  nor  was  he  released  until  the  strong 
hand  of  death  had  put  an  end  to  the  vengeance,  together 
with  the  life,  of  the  implacable  cardinal.* 

But  his  fiercest  persecutions  were  reserved  for  the  un- 
fortunate Mary  de  Medici.  Richelieu  now  determined  on 
nothing  less  than  her  entire  banishment  from  France,  her 
degradation,  impoverishment,  and  ruin.  He  first  induced 
the  king  to  visit  the  city  of  Compeigne,  accompanied  by 
his  mother.  The  object  of  this  trick  will  soon  be  appar- 
ent. After  a  short  residence  there,  the  king  and  his  suite 
suddenly  returned  to  Paris,  without  informing  Mary  de 
Medici  of  his  purpose.  When  she  prepared  to  follow  him, 
she  found  the  gates  of  the  city  shut  upon  her.  She  was 
a  prisoner  within  its  walls !  Her  mental  sufferings,  at 
the  infliction  of  this  indignity  to  a  princess  of  her  temper, 
may  be  imagined,  but  they  cannot  be  described.  After 
a  few  weeks  of  detention  there,  she  succeeded  in  mak- 
ing her  escape ;  and  after  some  vicissitudes,  she  fled  to 
Flanders,  feeling  that  she  should  never  be  secure  from 
the  deadly  hatred  and  violence  of  the  cardinal,  as  long  as 
she  remained  within  the  French  territory. 

The  subsequent  vicissitudes  of  the  life  of  Mary  de  Medi- 
ci, her  sufferings,  and  her  fete,  almost  exceed  the  exag- 

*  See  Memoires  du  Marechal  de  Bassompierre,  contenans  1'Histoire 
du  sa  vie,  et  de  ce  qui  s'est  fait  de  plus  remarquable  a  la  cour  de 
France  pendant  quelques  annees.  Amsterdam,  4  vols,  1723. 


40  EXPULSION  OF  MARY  FROM  FRANCE. 

gerations  of  romance.  She  successively  visited  Holland 
and  England.  Her  own  daughter  Henrietta  sat  upon  the 
throne  of  the  Stuarts,  and  yet  she  was  powerless  to  secure 
the  return  of  her  mother  to  France.  The  omnipotent 
cardinal  sternly  forbade  it.  She  herself  wrote  to  her  son 
Louis  XIH.,  but  Richelieu  himself  dictated  a  cold,  and  al- 
most an  insulting  refusal.  Even  her  property  in  France 
was  confiscated  by  the  orders  of  Richelieu ;  and  Mary  de 
Medici  became  dependent  upon  the  charity  of  her  friends 
for  her  subsistence.  Louis  XIII.  in  one  of  his  letters  to 
her  declared,  "that  he  had  every  wish  to  serve  his  mother, 
but  that  he  could  not  send  her  any  money,  because  he 
had  no  doubt  her  evil  councillors  would  make  a  bad  use 
of  it." 

At  length,  in  the  year  1637,  Mary  de  Medici  was  even 
driven  from  England,  through  the  intrigues  of  the  cardi- 
nal ;  and  she  took  her  last  refuge  in  the  ancient  city  of 
Cologne.  There,  in  a  small  house  in  which,  sixty  years 
before,  the  immortal  Rubens  had  been  born,  an  old  shoe- 
maker and  his  wife  then  resided.  They  occupied  the 
rooms  on  the  first  floor.  The  second  and  third  stories 
were  let  to  lodgers.  And  in  the  garret  of  that  house 
dwelt  Mary  de  Medici,  and  her  single  remaining  atten- 
dant, her  serving  man,  Mascali.  The  apartment  was  poorly 
furnished,  and  the  utmost  poverty  was  exhibited  by  every- 
thing around  them.  On  the  10th  day  of  January,  1641, 
the  ex-queen  was  sick ;  and  that  once  noble  form,  which 
had  formerly  graced  the  most  brilliant  throne  in  Europe, 
by  the  side  of  the  chivalrous  Henry  IV.,  lay  shivering 
from  cold  and  hunger,  on  a  hard  and  humble  bed.  Mascali 
went  out  to  procure,  if  possible,  some  food,  to  give  sus- 


MARY  DE  MEDICI  IN  COLOGNE.  41 

tenance  to  the  famished  woman.     At  length,  after  a  short 
absence,  he  returned  to  the  garret,  with  a  bowl  of  gruel 
obtained  from  the  shoemaker  on  the  first  floor.     The  ex- 
queen  greedily  received  it ;  and  the  next  day  she  felt  bet- 
ter.    She  thought,  as   she  looked  out  from  the  window 
of  the  garret,  over  the  wide  and  uneven  waste  of  snowy 
roofs   around  her,  that  as  the  sun  shone  so  brightly,  she 
would  venture  to  take  a  short  walk.     By  Mascali's  help, 
she  descended  safely  the  steep  and  narrow  stair-case,  and 
passed  out  into  the  street.    She  had  not  gone  far  before  she 
was   suddenly  accosted  by  a  nobleman,  in  courtly  dress. 
It  was  her  ancient  friend,  the  duke  of  Guise,  who  had 
also  been  banished  from  France  by  Richelieu ;  and  who 
detected  the  features  of  his  former  sovereign  and  friend, 
amid  the  humble  and  faded  weeds  in  which  she  was  then 
arrayed.     He  bowed  instantly  very  low ;  and  taking  off 
his  hat,  he  addressed  her  in  terms  of  theprofoundest  sym- 
pathy and  respect.     The  next   day  he  sent  a  note  to  her 
humble  lodgings.     It  declared  that,  out  of  the  wreck  of 
all  his  former  fortunes,  he  had  only  two  hundred  louis 
d?ors  remaining ;  and  that  he  enclosed  one  hundred  of 
them  for  the  use  of  her  majesty. 

This  sum  of  money  supported  Mary  de  Medici  for  two 
years,  in  that  garret  in  Cologne.  At  length  even  these 
were  exhausted,  and  no  alleviation  had  come  to  the  mis- 
fortunes of  the  exile.  On  the  12th  of  February,  1642,  a 
low,  moaning  sound  of  pain  issued  from  that  hard  and 
humble  couch.  The  faithful  Mascali  entered  the  garret, 
exclaiming  "  Nothing !  nothing !  "  He  had  gone  forth  to 
procure  food,  and  had  obtained  none.  The  moaning 
sound  continued.  It  was  then  again  winter ;  and  the 


42  DEATH  OF  MARY  DE  MEDICI. 

apartment  was  cold  and  cheerless.     Mascali  collected  the 
rags  together  which  the   apartment   contained,  and  en- 
deavored to  warm  the  dying  queen.     At  this  moment  the 
rumbling  sound  of  carriage  wheels  was  heard  stopping  at 
the  door  of  that  humble  house.     A  heavy  man  is  heard 
toiling  up  the  steep  stair-case.    At  length  a  knock  re- 
sounds at  the  door.    Mascali  opens  it.    Fabro  Chigi,  who 
afterward  became  pope  under  the  name  of  Alexander  VII., 
entered  the  apartment,  to  impart  to  the  sufferer  the  last 
succors  of  religion.     He  had  just  discovered  the  presence 
of  the  ex-queen  of  France  in  Cologne,  and  had  hastened 
to  her  bedside.    It  was  too  late  to  afford  physical  relief ; 
and  he   endeavored  to   impart  to  her  spiritual  comfort. 
Among  other  things,  he  is  said  to  have  urged  her  to  for- 
give her  enemies,  as  she  was  soon  to  appear  before  God 
in  judgment.    She  feebly  acquiesced.    He  then  uttered  the 
name  of  Richelieu,  and  said  that  even  he  must  also  be  for- 
given.   The  frame  of  the  dying  queen  seemed  to  be  in- 
stantly convulsed  with  a  pang  of  anguish.     She  turned 
her  dark  eyes  reproachfully  toward  the  priest ;    moved 
away  from  him   convulsively  in  the  bed ;  exclaimed,  in 
the  long-disused  language  of  her  sunny  and  happy  youth  : 
"  Etroppo  I "  that  is  too  much!  and  then  expired.     Chigi 
is  said  to  have  afterward  confessed,  that  he  had  indeed 
required  too  much  for  human  nature  to  perform. 

There,  in  poverty  and  from  actual  starvation,  in  a  gar- 
ret in  Cologne,  Mary  de  Medici,  the  most  illustrious  vic- 
tim of  the  implacable  and  unscrupulous  Richelieu,  ended 
her  memorable  and  unfortunate  career.  Such  was  the 
fate  of  one  who  was  the  wife  of  Henry  IV.,  the  mother 
of  the  then  reigning  sovereign  of  France,  the  mother  of 


THE  DUKE  OF  ORLEANS.  43 

Isabella,  queen  of  Spain,  of  Henrietta,  queen  of  England, 
of  Christina,  duchess  of  Savoy,  of  Gaston,  duke  of  Or- 
leans, and  a  direct  descendant  of  that  immortal  house  of 
Florence,  which  had  produced  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent, 
Pope  Leo  X.,  Pope  Clement  VII.,  and  many  other  illus- 
trious princes. 

Having  banished  the  mother  of  the  king  from  France, 
Richelieu  found  it  necessary  to  commence  hostilities 
against  his  next  most  powerful  enemy,  the  king's  brother, 
the  duke  of  Orleans.  After  much  persecution  the  latter, 
who  was  a  frivolous  and  vindictive  prince,  determined  to 
invade  France  with  a  hostile  army,  and  punish  the  cardi- 
nal and  all  his  enemies.  He  ravaged  Burgundy  and  Au- 
vergne,  and  burnt  Dijon.  Richelieu  sent  an  army  against 
the  duke,  under  the  command  of  Marshals  Schomberg  and 
La  Force.  The  duke  of  Montmorenci,  a  patriotic  and 
distinguished  nobleman,  who  hated  the  cardinal  in  conse- 
quence of  his  unscrupulous  ambition  and  cruelty,  joined 
the  duke  of  Orleans.  He  was  the  highest  noble  in  the 
realm,  next  to  the  royal  family.  At  Castelnaudary,  a  bat- 
tle was  fought  between  the  rival  factions  and  their  troops, 
which  resulted  in  the  defeat  of  the  rebel  troops,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  baseness  and  cowardice  of  the  duke  of 
Orleans  himself.  This  defeat  placed  the  duke  of  Mont- 
morenci in  the  power  of  the  triumphant  cardinal.  The 
,  captive  duke  was  tried  and  condemned  to  death  on  the 
charge  of  treason.  Great  efforts  were  made  by  some  of 
the  most  distinguished  princes  of  the  realm,  to  induce  the 
king  to  pardon  him.  The  most  urgent  intercessions  and 
affecting  appeals  were  used  in  his  behalf.  He  was  execu- 
ted in  spite  of  them  all.  The  omnipotent  Richelieu  had 


44  RICHELIEU'S  FOREIGN  ALLIES. 

determined  that  Montmorenci  should  perish !  Through 
the  agency  of  the  cardinal,  the  duke  of  Orleans  was  again 
reconciled  to  his  brother,  the  king ;  a  reconciliation  which 
lasted  until  all  the  money  which  the  duke  obtained  was 
spent  upon  his  mistresses,  and  in  gaming. 

When  the  stirring  events  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War 
began  to  convulse  Europe,  Eichelieu  adopted  the  policy 
of  fortifying  France  by  treaties  with  foreign  states,  but 
resolved  not  to  take  any  active  part  in  the  conflict.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  formed  alliances  with  Sweden,  with  Hol- 
land, with  the  prince  of  the  Netherlands,  with  the  duke  of 
Saxe- Weimar,  with  the  Swiss,  and  with  the  dukes  of  Sa- 
voy and  Parma.  It  never  had  been  the  policy  of  this 
able  minister  to  encourage  the  carrying  on  of  foreign  and 
aggressive  wars  by  the  armies  and  generals  of  France, 
He  either  did  not  believe  the  character  of  Louis  XIII. 
possessed  of  sufficient  strength  to  induce  him  to  follow 
out  such  a  policy,  or  else  he  found  his  own  power  and  su- 
premacy in  the  state  more  easily  secured  and  preserved, 
by  confining  the  attention  of  the  king  to  internal  events, 
and  to  the  contests,  intrigues,  and  factions  of  the  court. 

Even  the  successor  of  St.  Peter  at  Rome,  Pius  V.,  hav- 
ing had  the  misfortune  to  offend  the  cardinal,  did  not  es- 
cape his  all-powerful  vengeance.  Richelieu  sent  the  Mar- 
shal d'Etrees,  whom  the  pope  most  cordially  hated,  as  his 
ambassador  to  Rome ;  and  gave  him  peremptory  orders  to 
treat  the  sovereign  pontiff  with  such  marked  indignities 
as  to  give  him  extreme  mortification.  The  ambassadoi 
executed  his  mission  so  effectually  that  his  rudeness  and 
insults  so  deeply  wounded  the  pope,  that  it  hastened,  and 
even  occasioned  his  death. 


THE  PALAIS  ROYAL.  45 

It  was  at  this  period  of  triumph  that  the  cardinal  be- 
sought Louis  XIII.  to  permit  him  to  bestow  a  gift  upon 
him,  in  some  humble. measure  indicative  of  his  profound 
sense  of  the  obligations  under  which  he  considered  him- 
self to  his  royal  master.  The  king  consented,  and  Rich- 
elieu presented  to  him  the  magnificent  assemblage  of 
buildings  then  called  Le  Palais  Cardinal,  afterward  known 
to  an  infamous  celebrity  under  the  name  of  the  Pal- 
ais Royal.  To  this  munificent  gift  Richelieu  added  his 
Chapelle  de  Diamants,  his  chased  silver  buffet,  and  his 
great  diamond.  Gifts  like  these  serve  to  show  the  vast 
amount  of  wealth  which  Richelieu  had  secured  during 
his  career  of  successful  ambition ;  and  they  prove  the  in- 
satiable rapacity  with  which  he  had  improved  his  oppor- 
tunities of  acquisition. 

It  was  a  portion  of  the  crafty  scheme  ol  Richelieu,  to 
retain  his  vast  influence  over  the  king,  by  diminishing  the 
credit  not  only  of  the  queen-mother,  and  of  his  brother, 
the  duke  of  Orleans,  but  also  that  of  his  wife,  Anne  of 
Austria.  Hence  he  endeavored  to  keep  up  in  the  mind 
of  Louis,  a  dislike  for  his  queen,  and  as  she  had  remained 
so  long  childless,  it  was  a  matter  of  importance  to  him  to 
continue,  and  if  possible  to  increase,  the  alienation  which 
existed  between  the  royal  pair ;  for  as  soon  as  it  would 
become  known  that  Anne  of  Austria  was  about  to  pre- 
sent an  heir  to  the  throne,  her  influence  over  her  husband, 
and  her  consideration  in  the  state,  would  have  been  vastly 
augmented. 

But  in  this  particular  case,  the  purposes  of  the  wily 
and  selfish  prelate  were  foiled  in  a  most  singular  and  un- 
expected manner. 


46  THE  FILLES  DE  ST.  MARIE. 

The  temperament  of  Louis  XDI.  was  particularly  cold ; 
and  the  only  attachments  which  he  ever  seemed  to  have 
formed  for  the  female  sex,  were  of  a  purely  Platonic 
character.  Among  the  circle  of  the  female  acquaintances 
of  the  king,  there  was  no  one  more  attractive  and  pleas- 
ing hi  her  person  and  intellect,  than  the  virtuous,  amiable, 
and  accomplished  Mademoiselle  Lafayette.  The  king,  in 
passing  through  Paris  on  his  way  from  Versailles  to  St. 
Maur,  stopped  at  the  convent  of  the  Filles  de  St.  Marie, 
hi  order  to  spend  several  hours  in  the  society  of  this  lady, 
who  had  taken  refuge  in  that  retreat  from  the  persecu- 
tions of  Richelieu,  who  was  jealous  of  the  king's  regard 
for  her.  During  his  conversation  with  her,  a  furious 
storm  arose,  which  rendered  it  impossible  for  the  king 
either  to  proceed  to  St.  Maur,  or  to  return  to  Versailles. 
The  tempest  continued  with  unabated  violence  until  night 
approached.  It  became  a  question  of  importance  then, 
where  the  king  should  lodge  during  the  night.  It  would 
be  unseemly  for  him  to  remain  in  the  convent.  It  would 
be  unsafe  for  him  to  repah',  without  his  usual  guards,  to 
any  public  or  private  residence.  He  had  for  many  years 
never  slept  in  the  apartment  or  dwelling  of  the  queen, 
who  resided  in  the  palace  of  the  Louvre,  in  Paris.  The 
king  was  greatly  agitated.  This  was  one  of  the  most 
desperate  emergencies  of  his  life,  and  he,  without  the  aid 
of  the  cardinal,  was  utterly  confounded.  At  length  Mad- 
emoiselle Lafayette  benevolently  suggested,  that  it  would 
be  best  for  the  king,  under  these  circumstances,  to  repair  to 
the  residence  of  the  queen,  where  he  would  be  not  only 
secure,  but  also  would  be  waited  upon  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  render  him  comfortable.  Overborne  by  the  necessities 


BIRTH  OF  LOUIS  XIV.  47 

of  the  case,  rather  than  induced  by  any  regard  for  his 
wife,  the  king  at  length  consented.  Word  was  instantly 
sent  to  the  Louvre,  that  Louis  would  lodge  at  that  palace 
during  the  night ;  supper  was  ordered  to  suit  his  taste ; 
the  neglected  queen  received  him  kindly;  and  nine 
months  after  that  stormy  night  Louis  XIV.,  who  reigned 
over  France  for  more  than  seventy  years,  was  born ! 

A  relative  of  Mademoiselle  Lafayette  was  a  person 
of  too  much  importance  in  himself,  and  too  intimately 
connected  with  the  career  of  Richelieu,  to  be  passed  by 
without  notice.  This  person  was  the  celebrated  Father 
Joseph.  In  some  respects  the  character  of  this  man  was 
superior  to  that  of  Richelieu,  in  others,  it  was  inferior. 
He  possessed  a  degree  of  firmness,  and  stoical  indifference 
to  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune,  of  which  Richelieu  was 
destitute  ;  for  the  latter  was  ever  suspicious  and  fearful  of 
impending  danger  and  disgrace.  Joseph  did  not  possess 
the  profound,  far-reaching  craftiness  of  Richelieu.  He 
was  confounded  by  the  long  and  tangled  details  of  a  great 
intrigue,  in  the  unravelment  and  direction  of  which  his 
master  found  his  greatest  glory  and  delight.  But 
the  craft  of  Father  Joseph  was  that  petty,  superficial 
cunning,  which  characterizes  feeble,  though  supple  and 
hypocritical  or  treacherous  minds.  Joseph  was,  in  a  word, 
the  imp,  the  inferior  devil  of  the  great  Beelzebub  who  so 
absolutely  ruled  him,  the  king,  and  France.  Possessing 
the  utmost  respect  for  the  talents  of  his  master,  admiring 
his  principles,  and  applauding  his  projects,  as  far  as  he 
comprehended  their  nature  and  their  intended  effects,  he 
was  in  every  sense  a  servant  and  assistant  to  Richelieu 
of  inestimable  value. 


48  FATHER  JOSEPH. 

And  yet,  the  cardinal  entertained  no  more  real  or  sin 
cere  regard  for  Father  Joseph,  than  he  did  for  any  one 
else.  After  some  years  of  devoted  service  to  his  master, 
Joseph  thought  that  it  was  high  time  for  him  to  receive  some 
splendid  and  substantial  remuneration.  His  ambition  did 
not  allow  him  to  be  satisfied  with  anything  less  than  a  car- 
dinal's hat,  or  at  least,  with  the  archbishopric  of  Rheims. 
The  absurdity  of  such  aspirations  might  have  been  apparent 
to  any  one  from  the  fact,  that  an  elevation  so  high  would 
have  rendered  Joseph  a  rival  of  his  master,  and  would 
have  put  an  end  forever  to  his  dependence  and  subser- 
viency. Richelieu  readily  found  abundant  pretexts  for 
delaying  the  accomplishment  of  these  wishes  of  his  most 
trusted  servant.  He  indeed  offered  him  the  bishopric 
of  Mans,  as  a  commencement  of  his  elevation.  But  Joseph 
refused ;  and  redoubled  his  importunities  for  a  cardinal's 
hat.  Richelieu,  to  appease  his  eagerness,  instructed 'his 
ambassador  at  the  papal  court  to  commence  negotiations 
on  the  subject ;  but  at  the  same  time  he  took  such  secret 
measures  as  effectually  thwarted  the  furtherance  of  the 
project. 

There  are  not  wanting  persons  who  contend  that 
Father  Joseph  was  a  man  of  great  capacity.  Grotius, 
for  instance,  declares  that  he  sketched  all  the  outlines  of 
Richelieu's  measures,  and  that  the  latter  put  the  finishing 
touch  to  them.  It  is  certain,  that  the  monk  was  admit- 
ted to  all  the  great  state  secrets  of  his  master;  that  he 
was  deputed  to  negotiate  with  kings,  princes,  and  the 
highest  potentates  of  Europe.  One  of  his  greatest  merits 
in  the  estimation  of  Richelieu  was  his  utter  and  daring 
unscrupulousness,  which  never  hesitated  at  the  perpetra 


FATHER  JOSEPH'S  DEATH.  49 

tion  of  the  most  desperate  and  outrageous  measures. 
Thus  he  once  sent  an  officer  with  an  important  message 
into  Germany,  the  particulars  of  which,  however,  were  so 
severe  and  cruel,  that  the  officer  supposed  that  there 
must  have  been  an  error  in  his  instructions.  He  returned 
for  more  explicit  directions,  and  found  Father  Joseph 
celebrating  mass.  Being  pressed  for  time,  he  approached 
the  priest  and  whispered,  "  Suppose  these  people  defend 
themselves,  what  must  I  do  ?  "  Suspending  for  a  moment 
his  sacred  functions,  Joseph  turned  aside,  and  whispered  to 
the  officer,  "  Qu^on  tuetout" — Killihem  all!  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  finish  the  mass. 

At  length,  when  the  importunities  of  Father  Joseph  for 
the  cardinal's  hat  became  so  urgent  as  to  be  inconvenient, 
he  was  seized  with  a  mortal  disease,  and  opportunely  died. 
Some  have  asserted  that  he  was  poisoned  by  the  orders  of 
Richelieu.  There  is  no  evidence  of  the  truth  of  this 
charge,  except  that  the  unscrupulous  ambition  of  the  cardi- 
nal would  have  led  him  thus  to  rid  himself  of  a  man  who 
was  becoming  a  dangerous  and  an  aspiring  rival.  But  such 
evidence  can  hardly  be  regarded  as  satisfactory  and  conclu- 
sive. Whatever  may  have  been  the  real  fact  in  the  case, 
Richelieu  kept  up  the  utmost  show  of  tender  friendship  to- 
ward him  to  the  last,  and  even  had  him  removed,  shortly 
previous  to  his  death,  to  his  own  palace  at  Ruel.  While 
Father  Joseph  was  lying  on  his  death-bed,  Richelieu 
entered  his  apartment,  and  wishing  to  give  him  the 
geatest  encouragement  in  his  power,  in  harmony  with 
the  character  of  his  servant,  he  exclaimed,  "  Courage ! 
Father  Joseph,  courage !  Our  troops  have  taken  Brisach ! " 
The  monk  died  in  December,  1638,  and  Richelieu  ex- 


50  CINQ-MAR& 

claimed,  when  he  was  informed  of  his  death,  "  I  have  lost 
my  right  arm."  He  pretended  to  shed  tears  over  his 
grave ;  which  display  of  sensibility  induced  the  simple 
Louis  XIII.  to  say :  "  I  have  lost  one  of  my  best  sub- 
jects, and  Monsieur  le  Cardinal  his  confidant  and  inti- 
mate friend." 

The  last  conspiracy  against  the  authority  of  the  cardi- 
nal, which  he  was  called  upon  to  confront,  and  which  he 
eventually  crushed,  was  that  of  the  king's  favorite  Cinq- 
Mars.  This  person  had  been  introduced  to  the  favor  of 
the  king  by  Richelieu  himself,  who  readily  discovered 
that  Louis  yearned  for  the  society  of  some  agreeable  and 
harmless  person,  as  a  relief  from  the  serious  and  solemn 
intricacies  of  state  and  of  council  which  occupied  the 
larger  portion  of  his  time.  Cinq-Mars  was  a  handsome 
young  man,  of  amiable  and  pleasing  temper,  of  very  mod- 
erate abilities,  and  admirably  suited  to  the  purpose  for  which 
he  was  intended.  He  at  once  rose  high  in  the  confidence 
and  friendship  of  the  shallow  king,  and  remained  at  the 
same  time,  the  subservient  tool  of  Richelieu. 

At  this  period  the  young  courtier  was  secretly  attached 
to  a  beautiful  and  fascinating  mistress  at  Paris,  named 
Marion  de  1'Orme.  It  was  the  habit  of  Cinq-Mars  to 
hasten  to  her  residence,  the  instant  the  king  retired  to 
bed,  and  to  return  thence  in  the  morning  early  enough  to 
await  the  monarch  at  his  rising.  Sometimes,  however,  ha 
was  too  late  for  this  purpose,  and  in  those  instances  as 
soon  as  Louis  inquired  for  the  favorite,  he  was  informed 
that  he  had  not  yet  risen. 

Marion  de  1'Orme  belonged  to  that  celebrated  class  of 
women,  whose  character  and  career  form  some  of  the 


MARION  DE  L'ORME.  61 

most  interesting  yet  mournful  pages  of  history.  She  was 
the  intimate  friend  of  the  notorious  Ninon  de  1'Enclos ; 
and  like  her,  she  was  extremely  beautiful,  accomplished, 
and  perfidious.  She  possessed  a  large  share  of  refined 
wit  and  intelligence  ;  was  luxurious  and  expensive  in  her 
habits  of  living;  and  regarded  the  indulgence  of  her 
voluptuous  tastes  as  the  highest  end  and  blessing  of  ex- 
istence. Her  fascinations  enslaved  the  minds,  as  well  as 
the  passions,  of  her  admirers ;  and  so  potent  were  her 
charms  that  they  had  even  subjugated  the  crafty  Riche- 
lieu himself.  At  one  period  the  illustrious  churchman 
had  been  an  ardent  and  humble  suppliant  for  her  favors, 
It  is  not  singular,  therefore,  that  the  peerless  beauty,  the 
fascinating  wit,  and  the  attractive  grace  of  this  modern 
Aspasia,  were  able  to  detain  in  the  soft  dalliance  of  her 
gilded  boudoir,  this  handsome  but  feeble-minded  favorite 
of  the  king,  long  after  the  sterner  dictates  of  policy  and 
of  interest  would  have  admonished  him  to  be  gone.  And 
when,  to  her  own  attractions,  there  were  added,  as  was 
sometimes  the  case,  those  of  the  equally  fascinating  Ni- 
non ;  when,  during  the  late  hours  of  the  night  these  two 
remarkable  women,  and  their  lovers,  banqueted  in  the 
splendid  apartments  of  Marion,  beguiling  the  time  with 
the  piquant  scandals  of  the  court ;  while  Ninon  pensively 
sang  her  softest,  sweetest  love-ditty,  and  Marion  gayly 
narrated  her  most  pleasing  anecdote ;  while  the  choicest 
viands  of  the  earth  combined  with  charming  wit,  brilliant 
repartee,  and  winning  flattery,  satiated  their  physical  and 
intellectual  appetites ;  when  such  mingled  banquets  as 
these,  at  which  a  Pericles,  an  Apicius,  even  a  !N  apoleon, 
would  not  have  disdained  to  assist,  regaled  the  senses  of 


52  CONSPIRACY  OF  CINQ-MARS. 

the  fortunate  favorites,  it  is  not  strange  that  the  considera- 
tions of  prudence  often  gave  way  before  syren  voices  of 
such  seductive,  though  fatal  melody. 

When  kings  and  ministers  elevate  men  of  moderate  for- 
tunes to  such  high  eminence,  they  naturally  expect  them  to 
be  obedient,  and  subservient  to  their  wishes.  The  un- 
timely absences  of  Cinq-Mars  excited  the  indignation  of 
Louis ;  and  when  the  real  cause  of  them  became  known, 
that  cause  aroused  the  indignation  of  the  jealous  Riche- 
lieu. Yet,  after  a  little  petting  and  scolding,  the  dispute 
was  adjusted ;  but  only  to  break  out  afterward  again 
with  intenser  and  more  fatal  fury. 

The  king  in  his  free  and  confidential  conversations  with 
his  favorite,  disclosed  all  that  occupied  his  thoughts,  but 
at  the  same  time,  he  forbade  Cinq-Mars  to  divulge  certain 
things  to  the  cardinal.  The  latter  had  been  in  the  habit 
•  of  learning  many  things  through  the  subserviency  of 
Cinq-Mars;  and  he  soon  discovered  that,  for  some  reason, 
his  protege  not  only  became  less  communicative,  but  that, 
in  proportion  as  he  became  the  depositary  of  the  king's 
secrets,  in  that  proportion  he  became  arrogant  toward  the 
minister.  At  length,  he  even  went  so  far  as  to  conspire 
for  the  assassination  of  the  cardinal.  He  endeavored  to 
attach  the  duke  of  Orleans  and  the  duke  de  Bouillon  to 
his  conspiracy.  Meanwhile,  his  own  arrogance  even  to- 
ward the  king,  became  almost  insufferable.  He  asserted 
publicly,  that  he  did  not  spend  as  much  of  his  tune  as  he 
did  formerly  in  the  cabinet  of  the  king,  because  his 
breath  was  so  offensive  that  he  really  could  not  endure 
to  go  near  him !  Just  at  this  period,  Richelieu  became 
sick  atNorbonne,  and  Cinq-Mars  delayed  the  assassination, 


EXECUTION  OF  CINQ-MARS.  63 

in  the  confident  expectation  that  the  minister  would  die, 
without  the  necessity  of  his  intervention.  This  fatal  error, 
and  the  delay  to  which  it  led,  was  the  cause  of  his  own 
ruin. 

The  cardinal  unexpectedly  recovered.  He  employed 
the  first  moments  of  his  convalescence,  in  devising  the 
means  whereby  to  destroy  Cinq-Mars.  Accident  oppor- 
tunely came  to  his  aid,  and  he  obtained  frgm  an  unknown 
hand,  a  packet  containing  a  copy  of  the  secret  treaty 
which  the  duke  of  Orleans  and  Cinq-Mars  had  entered 
into  with  the  king  of  Spain  ;  a  treaty  in  which  important 
rights  of  France  were  ceded  to  that  country,  without  the 
knowledge  and  consent  of  the  king,  or  his  minister.  Riche- 
lieu immediately  sent  this  document  to  the  king,  as  proof 
of  the  treason  of  Cinq-Mars;  and  the  former  favorite  was 
immediately  arrested  at  Norbonne.  The  king  appointed 
a  commission  to  try  the  conspirators — Cinq-Mars,  De 
Thou,  and  the  duke  de  Bouillon.  The  two  former  were 
condemned  to  death  for  treason ;  and  Richelieu,  fearful 
lest  the  imbecile  sovereign  should  relent  and  pardon 
them  before  the  completion  of  their  sentence,  ordered 
them  to  be  executed  on  the  same  day.  During  the  trial, 
Cinq-Mars  maintained  an  obstinate  and  contemptuous  si- 
lence ;  but  when  the  soft  and  ambitious  voluptuary  was 
being  led  to  the  torture-room,  his  fortitude  gave  way,  and 
he  freely  and  openly  confessed  everything.  On  the  scaf- 
fold he  acted  with  more  intrepidity,  and  one  of  the  last 
acts  of  this  ill-fated  young  courtier  was,  to  send  with 
his  jeweled  portrait,  a  message  of  tenderness  to  the  fair 
Marion  de  1'Orme. 
Three  months  after  the  accomplishment  of  this  great 


64  DEATH  OF  RICHELIEU. 

triumph,  the  mighty  cardinal  expired.  He  had  reached 
the  height  of  human  glory ;  he  had  trampled  all  his  foes 
beneath  his  feet ;  he  had  governed  France  for  nearly 
twenty  years  with  unparalleled  splendor  and  success  ;  he 
had  heaped  up  vast  treasures  which  no  man  scarcely  could 
number ;  he  had  filled  all  Europe  with  the  renown  and 
the  terror  of  his  name ;  and  now  he  was  about  to  fall  be- 
neath the  invincible  power  of  the  common  enemy  and 
conqueror  of  all.  His  disease  was  a  dangerous  and  pain- 
ful abscess  on  the  breast.  The  imbecile  king  whom  he 
had  so  long  ruled  with  such  absolute  sway,  attended  him 
during  his  last  sickness,  and  even  administered  his  medi- 
cines with  his  own  hand.  He  at  length  confessed  to  M. 
de  Lescot,  bishop  of  Chartres,  and  received  absolution. 
On  the  4th  of  December,  1642,  he  became  much  worse, 
and  his  end  was  evidently  approaching.  Being  then 
asked  whether  he  forgave  all  his  enemies,  he  replied  with 
his  customary  craft,  "  that  he  never  had  any,  except  the 
enemies  of  France  ;  and  that  he  acted  toward  them  as  he 
implored  Divine  Justice  to  act  toward  him  ! "  He  also 
added,  "that  he  embraced  the  articles  of  the  Catholic  creed 
with  a  perfect  faith ;  and  that  if  he  had  a  hundred  thou- 
sand lives  to  give,  he  would  sacrifice  them  all  for  the  faith 
and  for  the  church  ?  "  With  such  monstrous  lies  on  his 
dying  lips,  did  this  great  hypocrite,  tyrant,  and  assassin 
quit  the  scene  of  his  innumerable  crimes,  and  approach  the 
presence  of  his  impartial  Judge ! 

Richelieu  expired  in  the  fifty-eighth  year  of  his  age,  and 
in  the  eighteenth  of  his  ministry.  When  Louis  XIII.,  the 
imbecile  wretch  over  whom  he  had  ruled,  was  informed 
of  his  death,  he  exclaimed  coldly,  there  is  a  great  politician 


RICHELIEU'S  MENTAL  QUALITIES.  55 

dead ;  and  in  this  single  speech,  he  embodied  more  wis- 
dom than  all  the  utterances  of  his  whole  life  before. 

As  to  the  personal  character  of  this  celebrated  man,  we 
are  convinced  that  there  can  be  but  one  honest  opinion 
entertained  by  those  who  have  carefully  examined  his 
history.  It  will  be  admitted  by  every  one,  that  his  tal- 
ents as  a  statesman,  his  sagacity,  his  penetration,  the  fer- 
tility of  his  resources,  his  firmness,  and  the  consistency  of 
the  policy  which  he  pursued,  were  all  unrivaled  and  unques- 
tioned. That  he  introduced  order,  vigor,  and  regularity 
into  the  administration  is  equally  clear.  That  he  rendered 
France,  her  armies,  her  court,  and  her  king,  respected 
and  even  feared  throughout  Europe,  is  indisputable.  That 
he  was  one  of  those  great,  commanding,  towering  geniuses 
which  visit  the  world  at  rare  and  long  intervals,  and  leave 
behind  them  indelible  and  eternal  foot-marks  on  the  shores 
of  time,  for  after  ages  to  wonder  at  and  to  admire,  will  be 
admitted.  But  on  the  contrary,  it  is  equally  clear,  that 
he  was  one  of  the  most  selfish,  one  of  the  most  unscrupu- 
lous, one  of  the  most  cruel  and  unprincipled  of  mankind. 
His  only  god  was  himself.  He  despised  his  king,  and  only 
used  him  as  the  pliable  instrument  of  his  own  aggran- 
dizement. And  to  his  insane  worship  of  that  god,  he 
sacrificed  the  noblest  and  best  blood  of  France.  His  re- 
venge for  supposed  hostility  or  insults,  was  more  impla- 
cable and  insatiable  than  that  of  any  other  great  man, 
whose  deeds  adorn  and  disgrace  the  page  of  history.  It 
was  with  great  truth  that  the  illustrious  Grotius  wrote 
of  him,  after  his  death,  an  epitaph  in  which  he  declared 
among  other  things,  that  "  in  this  was  he  wretched,  that 


56  JOY  AT  HIS  DEATH. 

he  made  all  men  so ;  being  as  well  the  torment,  as  the  o* 
nament  of  his  times."* 

The  announcement  of  his  death  was  the  sudden  signa1 
for  exultations  in  various  quarters  of  the  habitable  globe 
At  that  moment  the  dark  and  chilly  dungeons  of  the 
Bastille  resounded  with  the  frantic  screams  of  joy,  which 
were  uttered  by  his  many  victims ;  from  the  illustrious 
Bassompeirre  down  to  the  obscure  Dessault,  who  wrote 
a  letter  to  the  cardinal,  when  on  his  death-bed,  full  of 
scathing,  and  not  unjust  or  undeserved  invective.  The 
innumerable  fugitives  in  foreign  climes,  who  had  fled  their 
country  to  escape  his  wrath,  congratulated  each  other ; 
and  exulted  over  his  death  as  if  Satan  himself  had  at  last 
oeen  crushed  by  the  omnipotent  and  retributive  arm  of 
God.  The  French  court  whom  he  had  so  long  overawed, 
and  the  French  people  whom  he  had  so  cruelly  oppressed, 
rejoiced  with  one  common  joy  that  the  great  curse  of 
mankind  had  at  last,  after  so  many  years  of  patient  endu 
ranee  and  suffering  on  their  part,  and  of  pernicious  su- 
premacy on  his,  descended  to  the  eternal  silence  and  dark 
ness  of  the  grave. 

It  is  said,  tnat  not  a  human  being  in  France  mourned 
the  cardinal's  death,  except  his  king,  and  his  own  favor- 
ites. To  these  he  bequeathed  munificent  legacies.  He 
gave  the  king,  in  addition  to  the  presents  made  him  du 
ring  his  lifetime,  the  sum  of  fifteen  hundred  thousand 
iivres.  He  bequeathed  his  splendid  library  to  the  uni- 

*  "  Hoc  tamen  uno  miser,  quod  omnes  fecit, 
Tarn  saeculi  sui  tormentum,  quam  ornamenttma  " 

And  he  adds  afterward,  very  appropriately  : 
"  Quo  raigravit  sacramentum  eat  1  " 


HIS  DRAMATIC  FAILURES.  57 

versity  of  the  Sorbonne,  which  he  had  established.  But 
all  his  untold  wealth  he  had,  during  the  latter  years  of  his 
administration,  cruelly  extorted  from  the  people ;  and  he 
had  several  times  almost  driven  them  to  despair  by  the 
extent  and  rigor  of  his  exactions.  In  a  word,  this  great 
and  gifted  man  was  the  most  complete  embodiment  of 
selfish  and  unscrupulous  mental  power,  which  the  world 
has  even  seen ;  and  while  his  whole  life  was  spent  in  ele- 
vating himself,  by  depressing  the  power  of  the  -French 
nobles,  under  the  plea  of  strengthening  the  prerogatives 
and  supremacy  of  the  king,  he  degraded,  depressed,  and 
ruined  the  people,  whose  interests  and  whose  rights  he 
treated  with  contempt,  and  habitually  trampled  under 
foot. 

And  yet,  the  crafty  cardinal,  during  his  triumphant 
career,  met  with  many  mortifications.  He  attempted  the 
composition  of  tragedy,  and  produced  an  impotent  and  un- 
fortunate play,  named  Mirame  ;  on  the  representation  of 
which  he  expended  three  hundred  thousand  crowns.  He 
was  irritated  beyond  measure  at  the  failure  of  this  perform- 
ance ;  and  some  of  those  who  indulged  their  wit  upon  its 
absurdities,  expiated  their  offense  by  many  long  years  of 
captivity  in  the  Bastille.  Richelieu  himself  confessed  that 
the  six  feet  of  earth,  as  he  termed  the  king's  cabinet,  gave 
him  more  trouble  than  all  the  rest  of  Europe  combined. 
He  was  tormented  with  endless  suspicions  of  conspiracies 
and  plots  against  his  life  and  supremacy.  He  was  even 
harassed  with  jealousy  against  those  who  excelled  him  in 
the  only  thing  in  which  he  failed,  the  dramatic  art ;  and 
the  great  Corneille  himself  suffered  under  the  penalties 

of  his  hatred.    And  it  is  unquestionably  true,  that  had  not 
C* 


58  CAUSE  OF  HIS  SUPREMACY, 

Louis  XIII.  been  one  of  the  most  imbecile  and  contemp- 
tible of  kings ;  had  he  not  been  devoid  of  all  mental  dig- 
nity, energy,  and  penetration,  it  would  have  been  impos- 
sible for  even  the  crafty  Richelieu  to  have  retained  so 
long,  the  splendid  and  gorgeous,  but  baleful  eminence, 
from  whose  heights  he  so  greatly  astonished  the  world, 
and  so  deeply  cursed  his  country. 


CHAPTER  II. 

MORALS   AND   MANNERS    OP    THE   COURT    OF   VERSAILLES 
BEFORE   THE  FIRST   FRENCH    REVOLUTION. 

THE  regency  of  Anne  of  Austria,  the  supremacy  of 
Mazarin,  and  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.,  ensued  upon  the 
death  of  the  impotent  royal  puppet  who  had  been  so 
adroitly  governed  by  Richelieu.  The  long  reign  of  Louis 
XIV.,  glittering  with  a  false,  delusive  splendor,  which 
emanated  from  a  colossal  throne  erected  upon  the  ruins 
of  the  nation's  liberty  and  prosperity,  dragged  the  French 
court  and  people  nearer  than  before  to  the  yawning  abyss 
of  ruin.  At  length  Louis  XV.  assumed  the  scepter ;  and 
if  France,  heaving  with  the  tremendous  struggles  of  her 
gieat  revolutions,  presents  a  striking  and  impressive  sub 
joct  of  reflection,  the  character  of  her  court,  and  the  con- 
dition of  her  people  immediately  previous  to  those  memo- 
rable scenes,  are  not  less  monstrous,  nor  less  pregnant 
with  interest. 

During  the  protracted  reign  of  Louis  XTV.,  France  had 
been  the  worst  governed  kingdom  in  Europe,  even  in  that 
dark  age  of  princely  corruption,  tyranny,  and  oppression. 
To  be  a  noble,  or  a  member  of  the  court,  seemed  to  have 
given  an  immunity  in  almost  every  vicious  excess.  It 
was  during  the  unparalleled  darkness  of  that  period  that 
the  greatest  outrages  were  perpetrated  by  a  voluptuous 
and  pampered  nobility,  upon  the  most  valuable  and  pre- 


60  LOUIS  XIV. 

cious  rights  of  a  frivolous  and  complacent  nation.  The 
eyes  of  the  French  people  seem  to  have  been  strangely 
blinded,  and  their  resentment  disarmed  by  having  be- 
held the  false  and  delusive  splendors  of  the  reign  of  Louis 
XFV. ;  than  whom  a  more  sensual,  voluptuous,  though  mag- 
nificent sovereign,  never  adorned  or  disgraced  a  throne. 

During  this  period,  both  the  person  and  the  preroga- 
tives of  the  king  were  regarded  with  a  sacred  and  super- 
stitious awe,  as  being  elevated  far  above  the  reach  of 
popular  scrutiny,  censure,  or  indignation.  While  the 
French  people  admired  the  grandeur  of  their  monarch, 
and  the  brilliancy  of  his  court ;  while  they  cherished  the 
renown  conferred  upon  the  nation,  by  the  celebrity  of 
French  nobles,  statesmen,  generals,  and  titled  and  mitred 
debauchees ;  they  forgot,  in  a  great  measure,  the  outrages 
constantly  perpetrated  by  those  persons  upon  their  own 
most  valuable  privileges,  under  the  color  of  the  royal  pre- 
rogative, and  the  immemorial  rights  and  immunities  of 
princes.  At  that  period,  the  French  nation  were  still  dis- 
posed to  believe  that  all  the  tyrannical  acts  of  their  sov- 
ereign were  committed  under  the  influence  of  evil  coun- 
sel ;  and  in  the  same  loyal  and  charitable  spirit,  they  con- 
tinued to  hope  and  believe  that  whatever  he  did  which 
was  virtuous  and  commendable,  was  the  result  of  the  in- 
herent benevolence  and  excellence  of  his  own  character, 
This  delusion  continued,  in  a  great  degree,  to  exert  its 
protective  and  conservative  influence  during  the  reign  of 
Louis  XV. ;  and  postponed  for  a  time  that  dreadful  catas- 
trophe which,  during  the  reign  of  his  successor,  swept 
away  king,  throne,  and  sovereignty  into  one  terrible  and 
universal  ruin. 


DE  CHOISEUL'S  MINISTRY.  61 

The  fruitful  source  of  countless  evils  to  France  during 
the  reign  of  Louis  XV.,  was  the  influence  and  adminis- 
tration of  the  duke  of  Choiseul,  minister  of  foreign  af- 
fairs. This  talented  but  unprincipled  statesman  was  an 
Austrian  by  education  and  feeling.  He  had  been  French 
minister  at  the  court  of  Vienna ;  had  there  become  the 
favorite  and  confidant  of  Maria  Theresa;  and  was  secretly 
attached  to  Austrian  interests  and  policy.  On  his  return 
to  France,  he  obtained  in  conjunction  with  Madame 
Pompadour,  the  king's  mistress,  complete  control  over 
the  weak  and  pliant  mind  of  the  sovereign. 

Choiseul  was  strong  in  the  protection  of  Madame  Pom- 
padour, whom  Maria  Theresa  had  permanently  attached 
to  her  own  interests,  by  flattering  her  vanity  with  com- 
pliments and  presents.  Choiseul  supported  the  authority 
of  the  parliament,  whose  protector  he  styled  himself. 
He  became  the  declared  enemy  of  the  Jesuits,  and  suc- 
ceeded eventually  in  suppressing  the  order  throughout 
the  French  dominions.  His  character,  was  bold,  thought- 
ful, cunning,  and  sagacious.  He  possessed  much  firm- 
ness and  resolution.  He  was  steadfast  and  consistent 
in  his  plans.  In  a  word,  though  his  name  and  administra- 
tion have  become  almost  oblivious  to  posterity,  being 
eclipsed  by  the  greater  brilliancy  and  magnitude  of  suc- 
ceeding events ;  yet  he  was  in  no  respects  inferior  in  abil- 
ity to  statesmen  of  more  enduring  fame — to  Mazarin,  to 
De  Ritz,  or  to  Richelieu. 

It  was  through  the  influence  of  this  man,  united  with 
that  of  Madame  Pompadour,  that  in  1758  Louis  entered 
into  a  treaty  with  Austria,  which  greatly  aggravated  the 
already  existing  evils  hi  France ;  which,  in  fact,  made  the 


82  THE  JESUITS. 

latter  country  a  mere  province  and  dependency  of  Aus- 
tria ;  and  which,  by  binding  the  French  king  to  furnish 
money  and  troops  to  Austria  whenever  called  upon,  ren- 
dered Louis  XV.  the  tool  and  subject  of  Joseph  II. 

It  had  always  been  the  wise  policy  of  the  preceding 
sovereigns  and  statesmen  of  France,  to  weaken  the  su- 
premacy of  Austria  as  far  as  possible.  For  this  end 
had  Henry  IV.,  Richelieu,  Mazarin,  Louis  XIV.,  and 
Belle-Isle,  labored  and  negotiated.  All  the  results  of 
their  labors  had  been  lost  by  the  baneful  influence  which 
the  duke  of  Choiseul  exercised  over  the  weak  and  timid 
mind  of  his  sovereign. 

Among  the  various  measures  projected  and  accom- 
plished by  this  minister,  was  the  suppression  of  the  Jesu- 
its in  France.  This  wonderful  order  of  men,  whose  lives, 
whose  talents,  and  whose  energies  are  all  devoted  to  the 
defense  and  propagation  of  absolutism  both  in  church  and 
in  state,  have  ever  been  from  the  hour  of  their  establish- 
ment, the  most  powerful  supporters  of  despotic  thrones 
and  empires.  In  all  lands  and  in  every  quarter  of  the 
globe,  their  efficiency  has  been  found  to  be  immense, 
and  their  attachment  unwavering,  to  the  interests  of  the 
throne  and  the  altar.  It  matters  not  to  them  how  tyran- 
nical a  sovereign  may  be,  or  how  absolute  his  authority ;  it 
is  enough  for  him  to  be  an  enemy  to  human  freedom  and  a 
friend  of  their  faith ;  and  he  will  find  the  secret  and  the  pub- 
lic support  of  the  disciples  of  Loyola  of  infinitely  more 
value  than  a  powerful  army;  than  an  extensive  and  vigilant 
police ;  than  a  full  and  inexhaustible  treasury.  To  them 
all  crimes,  all  expedients,  and  all  measures,  are  alike  in 
then*  merit,  or  in  their  enormity,  provided  they  are  favor- 


THEIR  SUPPRESSION  IN   1762.  63 

able  to  the  great  and  unchangeable  end  of  all  their  exer- 
tions, and  of  their  very  being — the  retarding  of  human 
progress,  the  suppression  of  human  liberty,  and  the  estab- 
lishment of  despotisms.  They  have,  on  many  important 
and  critical  occasions,  secretly,  but  successfully,  rolled 
back  the  advancing  tide  of  revolution,  which  threatened 
to  submerge  beneath  its  waves  the  trembling  thrones  of 
affrighted  monarchs.  Men  wondered  at  the  sudden  and 
mysterious  change  which  took  place  in  the  current  of 
events ;  and  while  they  beheld  the  clear  proofs  of  the  ex- 
istence of  some  hidden  and  powerful  agent ;  so  perfect 
and  consummate  was  the  concealment,  that  they  were  ut- 
terly unable  to  designate  what  that  influence  was,  whose 
wondrous  effects  they  clearly  beheld.  That  concealed, 
insidious,  and  powerful  agency  was  often  the  unrivaled 
and  stupendous  order  of  the  Jesuits. 

Yet,  strange  to  say,  this  was  the  very  body  of  men 
whom  the  infatuated  minister  of  Louis  XV.  so  unwisely, 
for  the  interests  of  his  master,  suppressed.  This  event 
took  place  in  1762.  No  sooner  had  the  energy  and  pro- 
tection of  this  society  been  withdrawn  ;  no  sooner  had 
the  Jesuits  ceased  to  support  the  throne  by  the  Influence 
which  they  exerted ;  by  their  secret  instructions  in  the 
confessional ;  by  their  powerful  discourses  from  the  pul- 
pit ;  by  their  learned  prelections  in  the  university,  and 
lecture-room;  and  by  the  profound  works  which  they 
elaborated  from  the  press ;  than  the  foundations  of  the 
French  monarchy  began  to  loosen  and  give  way.  To- 
gether with  the  support  of  the  Jesuits,  the  attachment  of 
the  clerical  orders,  in  a  great  measure,  was  lost  to  the 
throne.  For  it  was  the  policy  of  the  duke  of  Choiseul, 


64  COURT  OF  LOUIS  XV. 

while  he  was  abasing  the  Jesuits,  to  elevate  the  new  phi- 
losophy of  Voltaire  and  Rousseau,  to  the  high  dignity  and 
influence  which  had  been  previously  enjoyed  by  the 
churchmen.  The  suppression  of  the  Jesuits  was  in  a  great 
measure  regarded  as  the  triumph  of  the  philosophers  ;  as 
an  attack  upon  the  priesthood ;  as  a  disgrace  intended  for 
religion  and  the  church. 

While  this  blow  was  directed  by  the  ministers  of  Louia 
XV.  against  the  great  representative  of  morality,  order, 
and  religion  in  the  nation,  those  unfortunate  results 
followed  which  might  naturally  have  been  expected. 
France  became  one  wide  land  of  revelry,  irreligion,  and 
profligacy.  The  court  became  the  scene  of  the  most  ex- 
cessive and  infamous  debaucheries.  The  French  people 
ever  prone  to  imitate  those  above  them  in  rank  and  pow- 
er, copied  the  fashionable  improprieties  of  the  court,  with- 
out possessing  that  elegant  refinement  which,  in  the  vices 
of  the  great,  takes  away  half  their  offensiveness.  Then 
commenced  that  scene  of  corruption  so  memorable  in  the 
history  of  nations.  Mankind  have  read  with  horror,  or 
at  least  with  astonishment,  the  records  of  the  voluptuous 
excesses  and  splendid  pleasures  of  ancient  Corinth — a  city 
beautifully  situated  on  the  isthmus  of  that  name,  where 
a  vast  temple  of  Venus  had  been  erected  in  a  style  of 
magnificence  unsurpassed,  even  in  the  countries  cf  Xerxes 
or  the  Parthenon,  whose  towering  form  glittered  invi- 
tingly from  afar,  beneath  the  azure  sky  of  that  fair  land 
of  genius  and  of  song.  But  Corinth,  filled  as  she  was 
with  the  most  beautiful  and  voluptuous  courtesans  of  all 
climes,  and  crowded  with  the  most  opulent  and  lavish  de- 
bauchees of  all  countries ;  Corinth,  in  whose  great  temple 


ORIGIN  OF  MADAM  POMPADOUR.  gs 

the  countless  priestesses  of  the  impure  goddess  celebrated 
her  rites  without  any  censure  of  law  or  public  opinion  to 
restrain  them; — the  deeds  of  Corinth  were  purity  and  inno- 
cence, compared  with  the  excesses  which  then  character- 
ized the  brilliant  and  cultivated  capital  of  France.  Men 
have  thought  that  Rome  under  Nero  or  Caligula,  had 
reached  the  worst  extremes  of  human  corruption.  But 
in  the  age  and  reigns  of  Louis  XIV.  and  XV.,  the  world 
was  taught  to  believe  that  the  race  of  Poppeas  and  Mes- 
salinas,  of  ancient  date  and  celebrity,  had  not  yet  passed 
away ;  but  that  the  lapse  of  centuries  had  even  added 
to  the  intensity  of  their  passions,  and  to  the  refinement 
of  their  vices.  Not  all  the  instances  of  ancient  or  mod- 
ern immorality  which  have  excited  the  wonder  and  dis- 
gust of  mankind,  have  presented  so  vast  and  so  astound- 
ing an  instance  of  individual  and  national  corruption,  as 
that  displayed  by  the  court  and  people  of  France,  at  the 
period  under  consideration. 

The  court  itself  was  under  the  absolute  dominion  of 
women ;  at  the  head  of  whom  in  influence,  in  beauty,  and 
in  infamy,  was  the  king's  mistress,  Madame  de  Pompa- 
dour ;  a  name  as  badly  celebrated  in  modern,  as  was  As- 
pasia  or  Thais  in  ancient  times. 

This  lady,  whose  real  name  was  Poissan,  first  attracted 
the  attention  of  Louis,  when  hunting  in  the  forest  of  Se- 
nart.  She  was  of  humble  birth ;  but  her  amazing  beauty 
and  grace  at  once  fixed  the  admiration  of  the  amorous 
monarch.  In  1 744,  at  a  masked  ball,  he  declared  to  her 
his  passion,  and  she  immediately  became  the  king's  ac- 
knowledged mistress.  Her  complexion  was  very  fair. 
Her  figure,  arms,  and  hands  were  remarkably  beautiful. 


66  HER  INFLUENCE  AND  ARTS. 

Louis  first  provided  apartments  for  her  at  Versailles. 
He  presented  her  at  different  times  with  six  estates,  be- 
sides so  vast  a  quantity  of  furniture  and  valuables  that, 
after  her  death,  the  sale  of  them  occupied  twelve  months. 

She  was  introduced  at  court  with  great  eclat,  and  was 
soon  created  marchioness  de  Pompadour.  Knowing  the 
king's  aversion  to  business,  she  resolved  to  relieve  him  of 
that  burthen,  and  to  assume  the  reins  of  government 
herself.  She  appointed  some  of  the  ministers,  and  dis- 
missed others.  Her  talents  for  administration  were  re- 
spectable ;  though  her  chief  hold  upon  the  affections  of 
the  monarch  was  her  beauty,  and  her  ability  to  amuse 
and  divert  an  indolent  king,  whose  time  hung  heavily  upon 
his  hands.  She  sometimes  received  the  monarch  in  the 
garb  of  a  milk-maid ;  and  the  mighty  sovereign  of  a  great 
nation  was  charmed  and  ruled,  more  by  the  frivolities  of 
this  giddy,  though  fascinating  woman,  than  by  all  the 
sages  and  statesmen  of  France  combined.  In  all  the 
royal  residences  she  erected  theaters,  in  which  she  her- 
self performed ;  and  she  liberally  rewarded  Voltaire  and 
Rousseau,  for  literary  productions  which  they  wrote  at 
her  request,  and  for  her  amusement. 

The  superior  talents  of  Madame  Pompadour  are  ad- 
mitted by  all  who  are  impartial  in  their  estimate  of  her 
character.  Maria  Theresa  herself  complimented  her 
judgment,  and  did  not  disdain  to  ask  her  advice.  She 
even  corresponded  with  the  favorite,  and  honored  her 
with  the  epithet  of  aime  et  bonne  cousine.  She  brought 
about  the  treaty,  in  a  great  measure,  hi  connection  with 
the  duke  of  Choiseul,  which  united  France  to  Austria, 
and  proved  the  most  powerful  blow  to  the  authority  and 


HER  VINDICTIVENESS.  37 

influence  of  Frederick  the  Great,  during  the  seven  years' 
war. 

Amiable  and  complacent  as  was  this  remarkable  wo 
man  to  those  who  flattered  and  fawned  upon  her,  she  was 
terrible  in  her  vengeance  upon  those  who  indulged  their 
wit  or  sarcasm  at  her  expense.  The  gloomy  cells  of  the 
Bastille,  with  all  their  horrid  scenes  of  suffering  and  of 
despair,  were  generally  the  life-long  portion  of  those 
who  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  incur  her  displeasure.  A 
few  flattering  verses  addressed  to  her  by  the  Abbe  Ber- 
nis,  made  him  a  cardinal.  Some  years  afterward,  hearing 
that  he  had  spoken  of  her  with  disrespect,  her  resentment 
was  furious,  and  he  was  disgraced,  impoverished,  and  ex- 
iled. Latude,  a  young  French  officer,  wounded  her  vani- 
ty, perhaps  even  unintentionally.  The  consequence  was, 
that  the  miseries  of  the  Bastille  were  his  reward  for  the 
long  and  hopeless  period  of  thirty-five  years. 

It  was  to  her  corrupt  ingenuity  that  France  was  in- 
debted for  the  invention  of  the  infamous  and  renowned 
Para-aux-  Gerfs.  This  establishment  was  situated  near 
the  forest  of  Satory,  at  Versailles ;  and  in  it  she  assem- 
bled a  number  of  young  ladies,  remarkable  for  their  beauty 
and  their  immorality,  to  divert  the  transient  affections 
of  the  indolent  and  imbecile  king.  By  means  of  this  vo- 
luptuous establishment,  corruption  was  introduced  into 
many  of  the  first  families  of  the  kingdom  ;  and  Louis  XV. 
became  the  Sardanapalus  of  modern  times ;  the  most  de- 
bauched man  of  his  age.  He  spent  a  hundred  millions  of 
francs  on  the  beauties  of  this  establishment ;  and  that, 
too,  at  a  time  when  the  revenues  of  his  kingdom  were 
greatly  embarassed  and  oppressed.  It  became  the  cen- 


68  HER  DEATH. 

ter  and  hot-bed  of  vice,  where  its  refinements  were  stud- 
ied, and  its  worse  excesses  were  boldly  practiced  and 
approved. 

While  these  things  were  going  on  at  court,  public  dis- 
orders were  increasing  throughout  the  kingdom.     There 
were  troubles  in  the  church ;  troubles  among  the  magis- 
tracy; and  troubles  among  the  people.     In  1757  an  ab- 
ortive attempt  was  made  by  Damiens  to  assassinate  the 
king.     When  Madame  Pompadour  heard  of  this  catas- 
trophe, she  was  compelled  to  leave  the  palace ;  and  re- 
mained an  exile  from  it,  as  long  as  the  danger  of  the  king 
threatened  to  be  fatal.     Upon  his  recovery  she  returned 
again,  and  reasserted  her  former  influence  with  redoubled 
power.     At  length,  in  1764,  she  expired,  at  the  palace  at 
Versailles.     For  several  years  her  health  had  been  decli- 
ning, and  her  end  was  not  unexpected.     She  died  at  the 
age  of  forty-two.     For  twenty  years  she  had  exercised  an 
unbounded  and  baneful  influence,  over  the  mind  of  the 
imbecile  monarch,  as  well  as  over  the  destinies  of  France. 
She  was  to  blame,  in  a  great  degree,  for  the  many  evils 
hi  church  and  hi  state,  which  gradually  brought  on  the 
final  catastrophe  of  the  revolution,  and  overturned  all  in 
one  common  ruin.     Her  influence  was  probably  more  ab- 
solute and  complete,  than  that  of  any  mistress  who  ever 
ruled  a  king.    While  a  few  of  her  favorites  enjoyed  the 
benefits  of  her  successful  love  and  triumphant  ambition, 
there  were  thousands  who  writhed  under  the  fury  of  her 
capricious  resentment ;  and  all  France  was  made  to  mourn 
the  evils  entailed  upon  the  nation,  by  her  infamous  lust, 
and  her  extravagant  licentiousness. 

Upon  the  death  of  Madame  Pompadour,  the  queen  en- 


ORIGIN  OF  MADAM  DU  BARRY.  gi» 

deavored  to  win  back  Louis  XV.  to  a  course  of  virtue, 
and  of  attention  to  his  family,  and  his  subjects.  For  a 
very  short  time  she  seemed  likely  to  succeed.  But  her 
attempt  was  vain.  The  king  soon  relapsed  again  into  his 
usual  habits  of  indolence  and  lust ;  and  by  coming  under 
the  influence  of  another  mistress  not  less  dissolute  or  fas- 
cinating than  her  predecessor,  he  rendered  the  evils  which 
already  afflicted  France,  still  more  ruinous  and  intolera- 
ble. This  woman  was  the  celebrated  Madame  Du  Barry. 

Of  her,  a  French  writer  truly  says :  "  She  was  a  child 
as  beautiful  as  Love,  but  had  served  an  apprenticeship  to 
debauchery  in  all  the  brothels  of  the  Hue  St.  Honore." 
This  young  woman  was  the  daughter  of  a  farmer  in  Yau- 
couliers,  and  was  born  in  1746.  Her  parents  died  shortly 
after  her  birth ;  and  she  was  thus  thrown  upon  the  world. 
She  came  to  push  her  fortune  at  Paris,  and  entered  the 
employment  of  a  dressmaker.  In  that  brilliant  capital, 
she  soon  fell  a  victim  to  the  countless  temptations  which 
beset  the  path  of  the  young  and  the  beautiful.  She  grad- 
ually descended  from  one  degree  of  vice  to  another,  until 
her  splendid  and  unrivaled  charms  were  paraded  for  pub- 
lic prostitution,  in  the  most  celebrated  brothels  of  the 
capital. 

Madame  Du  Barry  is  reported  to  have  commenced  her 
vicious  career  at  the  early  age  of  twelve.  After  having 
been  regularly  thrown  upon  the  town  as  we  have  said, 
she  met  the  Count  Du  Barry,  a  licentious  young  man 
from  Thoulouse,  a  frequenter  of  the  houses  of  ill-fame 
in  the  capital,  and  already  distinguished  by  the  unen« 
viable  name  of  le  roue.  He  procured  her  favors  for 
the  young  noblemen  of  the  court,  and  particularly  for 


70  CONDITION  OF  LOUIS  XV. 

Lebel,  the  principal  clerk  of  the  department  of  foreign 
affairs,  with  whom  she  at  last  lived  publicly  as  his  mis- 
tress. He  at  length  placed  her  at  the  head  of  a  gaming 
establishment  in  Paris,  which,  in  consequence  of  her  noto- 
rious beauty  soon  became  celebrated.  It  was  from  this 
position  that  she  was  transferred  to  the  royal  bed. 

It  is  said  that  Lebel  had  been  the  principal  agent  of 
Madame  Pompadoui-,  in  establishing  the  parc-aux-cerfs. 
When  he  had  determined  to  introduce  Madam  Du  Bar- 
ry to  the  king,  it  became  necessary  to  provide  her  with 
a  respectable  name,  as  her  own  was  ignoble  and  unknown. 
Marshal  Richelieu,  who  was  also  concerned  in  the  in- 
trigue, persuaded  the  Count  Du  Barry  to  consent  to  a 
formal  marriage  with  the  complaisant  young  lady ;  and 
thus  to  stain  the  honorable  name  of  his  ancestors  with 
the  infamy  of  this  connection.  She  was  then  introduced  to 
the  monarch  as  the  Countess  Du  Barry ;  and  so  satisfac- 
tory to  the  king  were  his  first  interviews  with  this  prac- 
ticed and  fascinating  courtesan,  that  he  immediately  ac- 
knowledged her  as  his  mistress,  and  proceeded  to  sur- 
round her  with  more  than  the  usual  splendors  and  luxuries 
which  were  attendant  upon  that  disgraceful  dignity. 

The  imagination  of  Louis,  as  well  as  his  body,  was 
worn  out  by  a  long  and  excessive  career  of  debauchery. 
The  elegant  and  refined  blandishments  of  Mesdames  Tour- 
nelle  and  Pompadour,  could  no  longer  have  gratified  him  ; 
and  he  found  a  new  excitement  and  fascination  in  the 
shameless  embraces  and  abandoned  excesses  of  this  young 
girl.  She  treated  him  as  the  accomplished  prostitutes  of 
the  Palais  Royal  usually  treated  the  old  and  worn-out 
rakes  of  the  metropolis.  This  was  something  novel  and 


LUXURY  OF  DU  BARRY.  71 

interesting  to  Louis;  and  hence  the  violent  infatuation 
which  seized  him  in  reference  to  his  new  mistress ;  which 
continued  with  unabated  vehemence,  till  the  hour  of  his 
death. 

The  prodigality  of  Madame  Du  Barry  was  ruinous  to 
France.  She  always  used  gold  plate,  and  possessed  a  cup 
of  that  metal  of  enormous  size  and  value,  presented  her 
by  the  doting  king.  Her  carriage  cost  fifty-two  thousand 
francs.  On  the  day  of  her  fete,  Louis  gave  her  a  bouquet  of 
diamonds,  valued  at  three  hundred  thousand  francs ;  and 
a  dressing  table  of  massive  gold,  surmounted  by  two 
golden  cupids,  holding  a  crown  enriched  with  diamonds, 
and  so  ingeniously  arranged,  that  she  could  not  look  on 
the  mirror  without  seeing  herself  crowned.  When  she 
lost  immense  sums  at  play,  she  gave  drafts  at  s:ght  upon 
the  court  banker,  Beaujon;  which  he  paid  with  greater 
regularity  than  the  expenses  of  the  government.  During 
the  life  of  Louis  XV.,  it  is  ascertained  that  she  drew  in 
this  and  in  other  ways,  eighteen  millions  of  francs  from 
the  royal  treasury.  This  was  the  manner  in  which  the 
.exhausted  revenues  of  the  kingdom  were  expended,  im- 
mediately previous  to  the  outbreak  of  that  revolution 
which  wreaked  such  terrible  vengeance  on  the  innocent  in- 
heritor of  the  name,  the  crown,  and  the  obloquy  of  the 
Capets ;  and  while  these  abuses  do  not  wholly  excuse  the 
infamous  excesses  of  that  revolution,  they  certainly  go  a 
great  way  to  palliate  their  enormity.  And  yet,  Madam 
Du  Barry  was  a  pattern  of  amiability,  of  generosity,  and 
of  benevolence.  All  confessed  their  admiration  of  her 
great  beauty,  charity,  and  good  nature. 

To   divert   the  ennui  of  the   aged  monarch,  Madam 


72  DEATH  OF  LOUIS  XV. 

Du  Barry  imitated  the  expedient  of  Madam  Pompadour ; 
and  allowed,  in  the  recesses  of  the  palace,  disgraceful 
scenes  of  licentiousness  to  occur  between  the  young  cour- 
tiers and  their  mistresses,  whom  they  were  permitted  to 
introduce  for  that  purpose.  The  king  conducted  her  in 
turn  to  all  the  royal  palaces ;  and  at  each  of  them,  he 
gave  splendid  and  expensive  entertainments  hi  her  honor. 
Had  it  not  been  for  the  opposition  of  the  duke  de  Choi- 
seul,  and  his  sister,  the  duchess  de  Grammont,  it  is  prob- 
able that  Louis  XV.  would  have  married  his  mistress,  in 
the  excess  of  his  attachment,  and  of  his  imbecility. 
Though  she  failed  in  accomplishing  this  ambitious  pur- 
pose, yet  her  unfading  and  peerless  beauty  retained  its 
potent  influence  over  the  monarch,  till  the  day  of  his 
death.  When  attacked  by  the  small  pox  he  sent  for  her; 
affectionately  embraced  her :  covered  her  with  kisses ; 
and  vehemently  declared  that  his  greatest  grief  in  dying, 
was  the  loss  of  such  unrivaled  and  angelic  charms ! 

Such  were  the  pursuits  and  the  attachments  of  the  sov- 
ereign of  France,  whose  reign  immediately  preceded  that 
of  the  outbreak  of  the  first  revolution. 

After  perusing  this  short  description  of  the  character 
of  the  French  king  and  court,  tLe  reader  will  not  be  sur- 
prised to  learn  the  consequences  which  naturally  resulted 
from  such  prolific  and  powerful  Causes.  They  are,  indeed, 
without  a  parallel  in  the  chequered  history  of  nations. 

As  was  the  sovereign,  so  were  all  the  officers  of  the 
kingdom,  appointed  by  him,  and  by  his  ministers.  In  the 
administration  of  justice  throughout  the  whote  realm, 
there  was  no  longer  even  the  semblance  of  impartiality 
or  honesty.  A  liberal  bribe,  the  favors  of  a  beautifuJ 


THE  STATE  OF  FRANCE.  73 

wife,  or  the  caresses  of  a  fascinating  mistress,  could  al- 
ways sway  the  decision  of  a  judge.  Personal  freedom 
was  universally  insecure,  for  lettres-de-cachet,  without  ac- 
cusation or  trial,  were  issued  without  even  the  authority 
of  the  king,  to  gratify  the  malice  and  caprice  of  his  cour- 
tiers. The  servants  of  the  crown,  and  the  officers  of  the 
army,  drew  immense  salaries,  such  as  would  scarcely  now 
be  credited.  These  expenses  exhausted  the  resources  of 
the  treasury.  The  most  important  deliberations  and 
measures  of  the  government  were  decided  in  the  arms  of 
mistresses;  and  the  whims  of  thoughtless  courtesans  de- 
termined the  fate,  and  ruined  the  interests,  of  thousands 
of  citizens.  The  most  important  interests  of  agriculture 
were  destroyed  by  the  outrageous  game-laws  which  ex- 
isted. Wild  boars  and  deer  were  allowed  to  run  at  large 
through  the  most  richly  cultivated  districts,  and  to  de- 
stroy the  most  valuable  crops.  It  was  forbidden  to  hoe 
and  weed,  lest  the  young  partridges  should  be  disturbed. 
It  was  forbidden  to  mow  hay,  lest  their  eggs  should  be 
destroyed.  When  these  infamous  laws  were  broken,  and 
the  culprits  were  arraigned  for  trial,  the  most  outrageous 
corruption  and  oppression  were  practiced,  which  were 
sure  in  the  end  to  ruin  the  defendants,  and  cast  them  pen- 
niless upon  the  world.  People  were  compelled  to  have 
their  grain  ground  at  the  landlord's  mill,  and  to  make 
their  wine  at  his  press.  The  feudal  services  required  by 
the  landed  gentry  were  outrageous  and  incredible.  The 
taxes  were  immense,  and  burdensome  beyond  endur- 
ance. The  aristocracy,  in  connection  with  the  clergy, 
possessed  three-fourths  of  the  soil  of  France.  Yet  they, 

for  the  most  part,  refused  to  reside  upon  their  estates ; 
I) 


74  MORALS  IN  THE  CHURCH. 

but  spent  their  revenues  amid  the  dissipations  of  Paris ; 
while  their  agents  increased  the  evil  by  the  perpetration 
of  additional  outrages,  to  promote  their  own  separate  in- 
terests. The  condition  of  the  peasantry  of  France  at  this 
period,  was  miserable  beyond  all  description.  Their 
houses  were  unfurnished  and  cheerless.  Their  apparel 
was  ragged  and  filthy.  Their  toil  was  endless  and  un- 
profitable. They  saw  no  possible  alleviation  of  their  pres- 
ent sufferings ;  no  reasonable  hope  of  future  deliverance. 

In  the  church,  the  corruption  was  two-fold.  First,  it 
was  impossible  for  talent  and  virtue,  if  of  inferior  rank, 
to  rise  to  the  higher  dignities  of  the  profession.  These 
were  all  appropriated  by  the  titled  and  profligate  mem- 
bers of  aristocratic  families.  The  state  of  morals  was  cor- 
rupt hi  the  extreme,  among  both  the  higher  and  the  lower 
orders  of  the  clergy.  To  be  an  archbishop,  or  an  abbe, 
was  equivalent  to  being  suspected  as  a  person  of  licentious 
and  dissolute  habits.  Religion  and  its  ministers  passed 
into  universal  contempt ;  nor  could  the  eminent  virtues 
of  a  few,  redeem  the  profession  from  the  degradation 
produced  by  the  notorious  vices  of  the  many. 

The  disrespect  into  which  religion  and  its  representa- 
tives had  fallen,  was  augmented  by  another  powerful 
cause.  The  period  had  dawned  upon  France  which  was 
to  witness  the  triumph  of  infidelity.  These  were  the  hal- 
cyon days  of  unbelief  and  ridicule ;  the  hour  of  triumph 
to  Voltaire,  to  Rousseau,  and  the  Encyclopedists. 

As  soon  as  a  nation  becomes  devoid  of  all  religious  rev- 
erence and  feeling,  the  hour  of  its  ruin  is  not  far  off. 
Some  religion  of  some  sort,  is  necessary  to  the  well-being 
of  every  social  compact — of  every  organized  community. 


MORALS  IN  THE  NATION.  75 

This  fact  is  illustrated  by  the  history  of  nations.  The  ab- 
sence of  all  religion  has  ruined  many  of  them.  The  presence 
and  power  of  even  a  heathen  faith,  which  taught  the  exist- 
ence and  the  supremacy  of  the  gods  and  man's  accountabil- 
ity to  them,  has  preserved  others  in  permanent  prosperity. 
This  was  the  true  secret  of  the  power  and  duration  of  the 
Grecian  and  Roman  republics.  The  ancient  Greek,  being 
of  imaginative  and  cultivated  mind,  in  the  absence  of  all 
revealed  instruction  on  the  subject  of  religion  invoked 
the  aid  of  his  powerful  intellect,  and  of  his  brilliant  im- 
agination ;  and  the  result  was  that  gorgeous,  beautiful,  and 
imposing  array  of  deities,  who  inhabited  the  golden  pal- 
aces of  Olympus,  and  reveled  amid  the  voluptuous  scenes 
of  Elysium.  To  the  Greek,  or  the  Roman,  every  peal  of 
thunder  was  the  voice  of  angry  Jove.  On  the  battle- 
field, he  thought  he  beheld  the  powerful  achievements  of 
gome  favorite  and  propitious  god,  scattering  death  among 
his  foes.  His  splendid  temples  were  adorned  with  exqui- 
site sculptures  and  paintings,  of  those  beautiful  and  heav- 
enly forms  with  which  his  refined  and  glowing  fancy  had 
peopled  the  immortal  seats  of  paradise.  With  such  an 
array  of  gods  before  them,  the  Greeks  and  Romans  felt 
or  acknowledged  their  superior  existence,  their  suprema- 
cy, and  man's  moral  accountability  to  them.  The  conse- 
quence was,  that  they  never  commenced  a  battle  without 
invoking  the  divine  assistance  ;  and  they  were  liberal  in 
their  services  and  their  sacrifices  to  what  they  believed 
to  be  the  requirements  of  the  true  religion. 

But  so  soon  as  France  became,  in  effect,  a  nation  of  in- 
fidels, denying  the  existence  of  the  Deity,  his  control 
over  the  affairs  of  men,  and  man's  accountability  to  him, 


76  STATE  OF  THE  FINANCES. 

both  here  and  hereafter — the  nation  became  one  vast  and 
countless  assemblage  of  debauchees,  of  adventurers,  of 
unprincipled  and  reckless  scoffers  of  religion,  and  even 
of  decency.  The  few  believers  in  the  order  of  things 
which  had  just  passed  away,  were  stigmatized  as  super- 
stitious ;  and  every  license  hi  morals,  in  opinions,  in 
church,  and  in  state,  began  to  be  commended  and  praised 
under  the  specious  title  of  Freedom ;  nor  was  there  any 
conservative  or  corrective  power,  either  in  the  existing 
church  or  state,  capable  of  resisting  the  disorganizing  ef- 
fect of  these  widely-spread  and  radical  evils. 

In  addition  to  all  this,  the  finances  of  the  kingdom, 
which  had  been  much  embarrassed  during  the  reign  of 
Louis  XIV.,  became  hopelessly  deranged  under  the  feeble 
and  perverted  administration  of  his  successor.  The  an- 
nual deficit  during  the  last  years  of  this  sovereign, 
amounted  to  seven  millions  of  pounds  sterling.  This 
ruined  state  of  things  could  not  long  continue.  The  na- 
tion was  on  the  verge  of  total  wreck.  The  tiers-etat 
were  becoming  desperate.  The  volcano  under  the  throne 
was  accumulating  its  pent-up  fires.  The  superincumbent 
mass  could  not  much  longer  suppress  it,  and  a  terrible  and 
destructive  explosion  was  about  to  break  forth,  dashing 
that  throne  and  its  appendages  to  atoms. 

Louis  XV.  at  length  died,  having  taken  the  small  pox 
from  one  of  the  girls  of  the  Parc-auw-  Cerfs,  who  had 
been  infected  with  the  disease  only  a  few  hours  before, 
and  was  ignorant  of  her  condition.  He  gave  her  in  re- 
turn the  half-cured  distemper  under  which  he  himself 
labored.  His  ignoble  reign  continued  from  its  com- 
mencement in  1715,  till  his  death  in  1774,  during  the 


BIRTH  OF  LOUIS  Xv'I.  77 

immense  period  of  fifty-nine  years.  Before  he  expired, 
the  two  diseases  had  changed  his  "body  into  a  rotten 
carcass.  He  received  the  last  sacraments  from  a  poor 
and  blind  old  priest,  who  alone  would  venture  to  un- 
dertake the  task.  He  was  then  buried  secretly  by  the 
night-men  of  Versailles.  Such  was  the  ignominious  end 
of  the  last  king  of  the  elder  Bourbon  race  who  died  in 
his  bed ! 

Louis  XVI.  was  born  on  the  22d  of  August,  1754.  He 
was  the  grandson  of  Louis  XV.,  and  second  son  of  the 
dauphin  by  his  second  wife,  Maria  Josephine,  daughter 
of  the  elector  of  Saxony. 

During  his  youth,  his  education  was  entrusted  to  the 
Countess  Marsan,  whose  rare  mental  and  moral  qualifica- 
tions, well  fitted  her  for  the  important  trust.  This  lady 
was  governess  in  the  royal  family.  In  his  younger  years, 
and  whilst  surrounded  by  the  most  fashionable  and  disso- 
lute court  in  the  world,  Louis  was  always  remarkable  for 
the  seriousness  of  his  deportment,  for  the  propriety  of 
his  conduct,  for  the  morality  and  purity  of  his  actions. 
He  seemed  to  be  strangely  indifferent  to  all  the  brilliant 
seductions  which  encompassed  him.  The  attractive  dis- 
sipations, the  beautiful  women,  the  luxurious  banquets, 
and  the  gay  festivities  which  laid  their  seductive  splen- 
dors at  his  feet,  all  appeared  alike  indifferent  to  him. 

Three  prominent  features  marked  his  youthful  charac- 
ter ;  his  integrity,  his  indecision,  and  his  weakness.  He 
seems  to  have  had  but  little  vigor  or  energy  of  mind ; 
and  was  unable  to  think  and  determine  for  himself.  And 
yet,  he  was  not  devoid  of  mental  qualities.  His  memory 
was  extraordinary,  and  he  retained  with  great  accuracy, 


^8  HIS  MENTAL  QUALITIES 

the  information  which  he  had  acquired  with  great  facility, 
His  knowledge  of  languages  was  extensive ;  and  he  was 
successful  in  mastering  all  those  branches  of  learning  to 
which  he  applied  himself.  He  even  possessed  considera- 
ble literary  taste ;  and  republished  and  edited  an  edition 
of  Fenelon's  Telemachus.  He  also  executed  translations 
of  portions  of  Gibbon's  great  work  on  the  Decline  and  Fall 
of  the  Roman  Empire.  It  may  be  said  of  him  that  he 
was  a  moral,  and  even  a  religious  prince ;  nor  was  the  in- 
tense spirit  of  scandal  which  characterized  his  age  and 
country,  able  to  discover  any  breach  of  virtue,  or  even  of 
modesty,  which  could  be  laid  to  his  charge.  There  was 
one  peculiar  eccentiicity  with  which  he  indulged  himself, 
as  harmless  as  it  was  peculiar.  He  was  fond  of  the  labors 
of  a  locksmith.  He  caused  an  apartment  in  the  palace  to 
be  fitted  up  with  the  apparatus  of  a  smith ;  and  thither  he 
often  retired,  to  indulge  himself  with  his  favorite  exer- 
cise. The  melodious  music  of  the  dance,  in  sweet  cadence 
and  harmony  with  which  so  many  graceful  feet  moved  in 
the  gilded  halls  of  Versailles,  was  often  interrupted  by 
the  alternating  echo  of  the  anvil  and  the  furnace,  resound- 
ing beneath  the  sturdy  hand  of  the  laborious  monarch. 
The  only  vice  ever  laid  to  the  charge  of  this  prince,  was 
the  use  of  wine,  which  he  sometimes  carried  to  a  more 
than  reasonable  extent.  It  was  in  this  unobtrusive  and 
harmless  manner,  that  the  youth  of  Louis  XVI.  passed 
away ;  furnishing  no  presage  of  that  stormy  and  disas- 
trous destiny,  which  was  so  soon  to  be  his  portion. 

The  dauphin,  father  of  Louis  XVI.,  was  so  partial  to  his 
son,  that  he  excited  the  jealousy  of  his  brothers,  the  count 
of  Provence  and  the  count  d'Artois.  This  preference  was 


Y  UUTH  OF  LOUIS  XVI.  ?g 

the  result  of  the  peculiarly  amiable  and  serious  disposition 
of  Louis,  who  at  that  time  was  known  by  the  name  of  the 
duke  de  Berry.  Madam  Adelaide,  who  was  particularly 
attached  to  him,  endeavored  to  correct  his  excessive 
timidity,  and  said  to  him,  "  Speak  at  your  ease,  Berry ; 
exclaim,  bawl  out,  make  a  noise  like  your  brother  Artois. 
Dash  and  break  to  pieces  my  china ;  make  yourself  talked 
about."  But  all  these  chiding  reproofs  were  of  no  avail. 
The  duke  de  Berry  became  every  day  more  silent  and 
thoughtful. 

While  the  prince  repulsed  flatterers,  and  did  not  dis- 
guise his  contempt  for  them,  he  took  an  interest  in  the 
miseries  of  the  unfortunate.  He  took  great  pleasure  in 
observing  the  labors  of  workmen  employed  at  the  palace 
and  the  gardens.  He  would  frequently  assist  them  in 
raising  a  heavy  stone  or  beam.  He  became  very  expert 
in  making  locks  ;  and  obtained  the  title  of  the  "  Good 
Vulcan"  from  the  royal  family,  on  account  of  the  blackness 
of  his  hands  when  working  at  this  favorite  amusement. 

At  the  death  of  Louis  XV.  the  French  nation  were  so 
weary  of  his  long  and  almost  endless  reign,  that  Louis 
XVI.  was  universally  hailed  by  the  remarkable  epithet  of 
"  Louis  the  Desired."  He  had  himself  declared,  previous 
to  the  death  of  his  predecessor,  and  as  a  reproof  of  the 
depravity  of  the  old  court,  that  he  desired  to  be  called 
after  his  accession,  by  the  name  of  "  Louis  the  Severe." 
He  discovered  no  taste  at  any  time  for  violent  or  noisy 
pleasures.  He  hated  balls,  gaming,  shows,  and  pageants 
of  all  sorts.  He  detested  libertinism.  He  was  indeed  a 
Lot,  lonely  and  unheeded,  amid  the  corruptions  of  the 
mighty  Sodom  by  which  he  was  surrounded.  One  only 


80  HIS  AMUSEMENTS. 

pride  he  seemed  to  have  entertained,  in  connection  with 
the  exalted  station  of  which  he  was  the  unwilling  heir. 
This  was  the  attachment  which  he  felt  to  the  glory  of  his 
house ;  and  he  dreaded  everything  which  might  tarnish 
its  luster. 

When  Louis  ascended  the  throne,  in  1774,  he  was  in  his 
twentieth  year,  and  had  already  been  married  four  years. 
Though  he  had  ever  been  exemplary  in  regard  to  women, 
and  was  strictly  faithful  to  his  wife,  the  French  could  not 
imagine  it  possible  that  a  Bourbon  and  a  king  could  long 
retain  his  virtue ;  and  they  prophesied  that  he  would  show 
the  family  trait,  as  all  the  rest  had  done,  at  the  age  of 
forty,  when  he  became  tired  of  the  queen.  His  only  amuse- 
ment was  the  chase.  His  principal  mental  diversion  was 
his  geographical  studies,  and  the  examination  of  his  charts, 
globes,  and  spheres.  He  was  unusually  dexterous  in 
the  art  of  washing  these.  His  memory  in  geographical 
knowledge  was  prodigious.  He  possessed  a  good  select 
library  for  his  own  use ;  containing  rare  and  expensive 
works,  which  he  frequently  and  carefully  perused.  Di- 
rectly over  this  library,  was  the  singular  apartment  ap- 
propriated to  his  amusements  as  a  locksmith.  Here  he 
spent  much  time  under  the  tuition  of  Gamin,  a  common 
mechanic  of  the  day,  who  afterward  betrayed  him  to  the 
convention,  and  aided  in  accomplishing  his  destruction. 
He  declares,  that  in  their  intercourse  he  treated  Louis 
with  the  rudeness  of  a  common  apprentice ;  that  the  lat- 
ter was  fond  of  inspecting  and  making  curious  and  in- 
genious locks ;  that  he  worked  hard  at  the  anvil,  and  the 
forge,  and  seemed  to  take  delight  in  the  vigor  of  his  exer- 
cise ;  and  that  he  would  frequently  conceal  himself  from 


HIS  RIGOROUS  CONDUCT.  81 

the  queen  and  court,  and  pass  stolen  hours  with  this  lock- 
smith, just  as  other  men  steal  interviews  with  their  mis- 
tresses ! 

Over  this  mechanical  apartment,  was  a  lofty  platform 
covered  with  lead,  on  which  the  king,  seated  in  an  easy 
chair,  and  with  an  immense  telescope,  surveyed  for  hours 
the  courts  of  Versailles,  the  roads  to  Paris,  and  the  gar- 
dens and  villas  in  the  neighborhood.  He  had  contracted 
an  attachment  to  Duret,  who  waited  on  him  in  his  private 
apartments ;  who  sharpened  his  tools,  wiped  his  anvil, 
pasted  together  his  charts,  and  adapted  his  telescopes  to 
the  king's  eyes. 

As  sovereign  of  France,  Louis  was  excessively  severe  in 
the  punishment  of  any  improprieties  in  his  courtiers,  when 
he  became  convinced  of  their  thorough  depravity.  These 
acts  of  rigor  seemed  to  be  momentary  fits  of  resentment,  ex- 
cited by  the  turpitude  of  the  criminal.  The  strong  and  de- 
terminecl  will  which  devises  and  executes  great  measures 
of  national  policy,  he  never  possessed.  His  memory  was 
prodigious,  as  will  appear  from  the  following  incident.  He 
was  one  day  presented  with  a  long  financial  account  for 
his  examination,  in  which  an  item  was  erroneously  intro- 
duced, which  had  been  inserted  in  a  similar  account  of 
the  preceding  year.  "  Here  is  a  double  entry,"  said  he. 
"  Bring  me  the  account  of  last  year,  and  I  will  show  it  to 
you."  His  recollection  of  the  matter  was  accurate,  and 
the  error  was  corrected.  But  it  was  his  misfortune,  not 
his  fault,  that  he  did  not  possess  the  great  administrative 
talents  of  a  Richelieu,  or  a  Cromwell.  He  was  good,  and 
that  was  nobler  than  to  have  been  great. 

When   Louis   XVI.  ascended  the   throne  his   resolu- 
D*  6 


82  HIS  GOOD  INTENTIONS. 

ticms  were  admirable.  He  resolved  to  become  a  reformer 
arid  revolutionist ;  and  he  determined  to  remedy  and 
correct  every  abuse  under  which  the  nation  groaned,  and 
the  pampered  court  and  aristocracy  flourished.  Had  he 
been  allowed  to  prosecute  his  plans,  his  crown  and  life 
might  have  been  preserved ;  and  the  horrors  of  the  revo- 
lution might  have  been  rendered  unnecessary. 

But  it  was  not  to  be  his  happy  destiny  to  accomplish 
this  honorable  purpose.  He  was  thwarted  and  prevented 
by  so  many  causes,  that  his  efforts  were  rendered  utterly 
imbecile.  These  obstacles  arose  from  his  parliaments;  from 
his  ministers ;  and  from  his  unfortunate  connection  with 
Maria  Antoinette.  This  princess,  who  exerted  so  impor- 
tant an  influence  in  reference  to  the  destiny  of  Louis,  and 
of  France,  now  requires  our  more  particular  attention. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  Francis  I.  emperor  of  Germa- 
ny, and  Maria  Theresa,  the  celebrated  queen  of  Hungary. 
She  inherited  her  mother's  talents,  her  beauty,  and  her 
ambition.  In  1770,  at  the  tender  age  of  fifteen,  she  was 
conducted  to  France  as  the  aifianced  bride  of  Louis  XVI., 
at  that  time  the  Dauphin.  The  marriage  was  celebrated 
at  Versailles  with  great  pomp  and  splendor.  During  the 
festivities  which  attended  this  important  event,  a  calamity 
occurred,  which  threw  a  check  on  the  general  joy,  and 
furnished  a  sad  and  terrible  omen  of  the  future  disasters 
which  attended  that  inauspicious  marriage.  A  tempora- 
ry scaffolding  took  fire,  and  amid  the  terror  and  confusion 
which  ensued  among  the  multitudes  crowded  into  the  tem- 
porary saloons,  three  hundred  persons  were  either  suffo- 
cated or  burned  to  death. 

Duiing  the  first  four  years  of  the  married  lite  of  these 


MARRIAGE  WITH  MARIA  ANTOINETTE.  83 

princes,  they  seemed  to  be  perfectly  happy.  Three  years 
of  this  period  passed  away  before  the  accession  of  Louis 
to  the  throne.  Their  mutual  affection  seemed  intense ; 
and  as  yet  none  of  those  political  storms  had  burst  forth 
which  afterward  raged  so  furiously  around  them.  At 
this  happy  period,  Maria  Antoinette  is  described  as  pos- 
sessing an  angelic  figure,  a  remarkably  clear  complexion, 
a  brilliant  color,  regular  features,  and  beautifully  expres- 
sive eyes.  She  had  the  Austrian  under  lip.  Her  dispo- 
sition was  cheerful,  happy,  and  confiding.  She  was  in- 
deed the  subject  of  general  adulation.  The  pulpit,  the 
academy,  the  press,  the  almanacs,  according  to  the  chiv- 
alrous custom  of  that  age,  were  filled  with  flattery  of 
her  charms,  and  of  her  virtues.  The  old  spirit  of  the  pre- 
ceding reigns,  which  was  accustomed  to  treat  exalted 
rank  and  birth  with  chivalrous  respect  and  delicacy,  had 
not  yet  become  extinct.  The  insane  vulgarity  of  Jaco- 
binism had  not  yet  ventured  to  degrade  and  debase  eve- 
ry person,  and  everything,  which  time  and  virtue  had 
surrounded  with  the  just  reverence  of  mankind.  The 
well-known  rhapsody  of  Burke,  in  reference  to  Maria 
Antoinette  at  this  period,  deserves  to  be  re-quoted,  as 
necessary  to  give  a  fair  idea  of  the  happy  position  which 
she  enjoyed  at  this  propitious  period.  "  It  is  now  sixteen 
or  seventeen  years,"  says  this  eloquent  writer,  "  since  I 
saw  the  queen  of  France,  then  the  dauphiness,  at  Ver- 
sailles, and  surely,  never  lighted  on  this  orb,  which  she 
hardly  seemed  to  touch,  a  more  delightful  vision.  I  saw 
her  just  above  the  horizon,  decorating  and  cheering  the 
elevated  sphere  she  just  began  to  move  hi,  glittering  like 
the  morning  star,  full  of  life,  and  splendor,  and  joy !  I 


84  BENEVOLENCE  OF  MARIA  ANTOINETTE. 

thought  ten  thousand  swords  would  have  leaped  from  then 
scabbards,  to  avenge  even  a  look  that  threatened  her  with 
insult.  But  the  age  of  chivalry  is  gone.  That  of  sophis- 
ters,  economists,  and  calculators  has  succeeded,  and  the 
glory  of  Europe  is  extinguished  forever."  The  kindness 
and  generosity  of  her  nature,  which  often  induced  her 
gracefully  to  stoop  from  her  exalted  station,  to  do  acts  of 
charity  and  condescension  to  the  poor,  won  for  her  then, 
the  enthusiastic  applause  of  all  gallant  and  chivalrous  men, 
and  of  a  respectful  and  generous  people.  Let  us  cite  an 
instance.  A  stag  which  had  been  wounded  in  the  chase, 
when  the  king  was  present,  struck  a  poor  peasant  with  his 
horns.  The  queen,  on  hearing  of  the  incident,  flew  to  bis 
assistance,  took  his  wife  into  her  carriage,  loaded  her 
with  kindness,  and  granted  her  a  pension.  This  was  but 
one  of  many  similar  incidents  which  occurred  at  this 
period. 

The  first  mortification  which  Maria  Antoinette  was  com- 
pelled to  endure,  at  the  court  of  Versailes,  was  the  dis- 
missal and  disgrace  of  the  duke  of  Choiseul,  the  minister 
of  foreign  affairs,  and  the  unchangeable  friend  and  parti- 
san of  Austrian  interests.  It  was  he  who  had  brought 
about  the  marriage  of  Louis  with  Maria  Antionette.  It 
was  he,  who  sought  by  every  means  to  oppose  the  faction 
of  Richelieu,  and  the  mistress  of  Louis  XV.,  Madam  Du 
Barry,  but  that  faction  now  proved  too  powerful  for  him, 
and  caused  his  disgrace.  Louis  XVI.  ever  afterward 
mistrusted  his  wife,  whenever  the  interests  of  Austria 
came  in  question.  Maria  Antionette  hated  Madam  Du 
Barry,  and  was  jealous  of  her ;  and  the  first  act  of  severity 
of  which  she  was  guilty  in  France,  after  her  accession,  to 


THE  COUNT  DE  PROVENCE.  85 

the  throne,  was  the  rude  and  unceremonious  banishment 
of  this  favorite,  the  moment  the  old  king  was  dead. 

Such  was  the  character  of  the  queen  at  the  period  when 
she  first  shared  the  throne  with  Louis.  The  other  mem- 
bers of  the  royal  family  occupied  so  important  a  position, 
and  exerted  so  decided  an  influence  on  succeeding  events 
and  on  the  fate  of  Louis,  that  it  is  proper  to  dwell,  at  some 
length,  upon  their  peculiarities  and  character. 

The  king  had  two  brothers,  the  count  of  Provence, 
called,  according  to  etiquette,  Monsieur,  and  the  count 
d'Artois ;  men  as  diametrically  different  from  the  king  in 
dispositions,  as  two  persons  could  possibly  be.  The  count 
of  Provence  was  an  absolutist  in  principle ;  and  was  op- 
posed to  all  measures  of  reform  that  could  be  proposed. 
He  entertained  the  idea,  that  all  the  nations  of  Europe 
grew  out  of  royalty  as  existing  in  the  reigning  monarch 
ies ;  and  that  the  house  of  Bourbon  was  the  first  and  great 
est  of  all  the  families  on  the  earth.  Yet  he  was  vacilla- 
ting and  incoherent  in  his  political  ideas.  He  was  opposed 
to  the  house  of  Austria,  and  to  the  intrigues  of  Maria  An- 
toinette in  its  favor.  He  considered  her  as  the  scourge 
and  the  calamity  of  France.  He  possessed  a  deeply  medi- 
tative cast  of  mind ;  was  remarkable  for  the  indepen- 
dence and  originality  of  his  ideas  on  the  subject  of  gov- 
ernment ;  and  was,  in  a  large  degree,  the  most  talented 
of  the  grandsons  of  Louis  XV. 

The  count  d'Artois,  the  second  brother  of  the  king, 
had  inherited  from  nature  a  very  different  disposition. 
He  was  strongly  inclined  to  pleasure ;  and  his  irregular 
and  premature  inclinati<  ns  rendered  the  excesses  of  his 
youth  outrageous.  His  licentiousness  was  unbounded, 


86  THE  COUNT  D'ARTOIS. 

and  universaly  censured,  even  by  the  least  scrupulous  of 
men  on  that  subject — by  the  French  nobility  themselves. 
In  the  same  degree  that  the  king  was  virtuous,  chaste, 
and  moderate,  he  was  impure,  extravagant,  and  outrageous. 
He  was  also  an  inveterate  gambler,  and  on  one  occasion 
he  desired  to  entice  the  king  to  join  him  in  this  indulgence. 
"  Will  you  stake  a  thousand  double  louis-d'ors,"  said  the 
count  to  him  one  day.  "  I  will  play  with  you  with  all  my 
heart,"  said  the  latter,  "  but  I  will  stake  no  more  than  a 
crown.  You  are  too  rich  to  play  with  me."  At  another 
time,  while  Louis  was  making  a  journey,  some  repairs 
were  ordered  in  the  apartments  he  was  to  occupy.  Hear- 
ing that  these  repairs  cost  thirty  thousand  francs,  he  was 
very  indignant.  Said  he,  "  I  might  have  made  thirty 
families  happy  with  that  sum."  Yet  this  was  the  man 
whom  the  revolutionists  guillotined,  as  the  representative 
of  every  vice! 

But  Louis  XVI.  seemed  to  be  the  only  eminent  exam- 
ple of  virtue  in  his  family.  The  duke  of  Orleans,  the 
father  of  Egalite,  had  been  married  to  Louisa  Henrietta 
de  Conti.  The  duchess  of  Orleans  during  two  years  after 
her  marriage  seemed  to  be  attached  to  her  husband,  but 
she  soon  became  scandalous  in  her  life,  and  gloried  in  the 
fact  that  she  deserved  the  epithet  of  the  modern  Messa- 
lina. 

After  the  death  of  this  shameless  woman,  the  duke  of 
Orleans  married  Madam  Montesson,  a  lady  of  rare  beauty, 
intelligence,  and  virtue.  This  person  he  seems  to  have 
sincerely  loved ;  and  she  was  worthy  of  his  affection.  She 
reestablished  good  order  and  decorum  in  his  house,  while 
a  taste  for  the  arts,  and  refined  wit,  took  the  place  of  the 


THE  DUKE  DE  CHARTRES.  87 

coarse  licentiousness  with  which  the  duchess  of  Orleans 
had  degraded  it. 

But  the  corruption  and  infamy  of  this  remarkable  fam- 
ily seem  to  have  reached  their  climax  in  the  person  of  the 
duke  de  Chartres,  afterward  termed  Egalite.  This  prince 
was  handsome  in  countenance  and  figure,  and  possessed  a 
fair  share  of  natural  intelligence  and  talent.  But  his  dis- 
position was  excessively  depraved  and  corrupt.  Ht  is 
said  to  have  entered  upon  a  career  of  vice  at  the  early  age 
of  sixteen  years.  Having  himself  become  thoroughly  cor- 
rupt, he  next  seduced  the  young  prince  of  Lamballe  by 
means  of  the  infamous  women  with  whom  he  had  become 
connected.  It  is  said  that  he  afterward  poisoned  this 
prince,  in  order  that  he  might  inherit  the  whole  estate  of 
the  duke  of  Penthievre,  whose  only  daughter  he  subse- 
quently married.  He  was  indeed  monstrum  a  vitiis  nulla 
virlute  redemptum.  Carlyle,  in  his  "  French  Revolution," 
gives  the  following  character  of  the  duke  of  Chartres : 
"  Duke  de  Chartres  was  a  young  prince  of  great  promise, 
as  young  princes  often  are ;  which  promise  unfortunately 
has  belied  itself.  With  the  huge  Orleans  property,  with 
Duke  de  Penthievre  for  father-in-law  (and  now  the  young 
brother-in-law  Lamballe  killed  by  excesses), — he  will  one 
day  be  the  richest  man  in  France.  Meanwhile, '  his  hair 
is  all  falling  out,  his  blood  is  quite  spoiled,' — by  early 
transcendentalism  of  debauchery.  Carbuncles  stud  his 
face;  dark  studs  on  a  ground  of  burnished  copper.  A 
most  signal  failure,  this  young  prince !  The  stuff  prema- 
turely burnt  out  of  him;  little  left  but  foul  smoke  and 
ashes  of  expiring  sensualities;  what  might  have  been 
thought,  insight,  and  even  conduct,  gone  now,  or  fast 


88  HIS  EXCESSES. 

going, — to  confused  darkness,  broken  by  bewildering  daz- 
zlements;  to  obstreperous  crotchets;  to  activities  which 
you  may  call  semi-delirious,  or  even  semi-galvanic !  Paris 
affects  to  laugh  at  his  charioteering ;  but  he  heeds  not  such 
laughter." 

The  ordinary  excesses  and  refinements  of  lust  were  far 
from  satisfying  the  depraved  disposition  of  this  remark- 
able man.  Even  after  his  marriage  with  the  amiable  and 
virtuous  princess  whom  we  have  just  named,  he  continued 
to  lead  the  life  of  a  libertine ;  to  ramble  through  all  the 
houses  of  debauchery  in  the  capital,  and  to  order  the  most 
extravagant  and  licentious  suppers.  The  most  abominable 
orgies  alone  were  his  delight.  He  erected  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Paris  a  sumptuous  temple  of  prostitution,  where 
his  favorites  indulged  themselves  in  the  most  abandoned 
profligacy.  The  most  astounding  part  of  all  this  was,  that 
the  duke  of  Chartres  was  not  anxious  to  conceal  these 
enormities  from  the  light  of  day  or  from  the  knowledge 
and  censure  of  mankind.  He  rather  aided  in  their  circu- 
lation. He  laid  a  wager,  at  Versailles,  that  he  would 
return  to  the  Palais  Royal,  quite  naked,  on  horseback,  at 
full  gallop.  The  companions  of  his  debaucheries  were  the 
first  to  blush  at  this  horrid  proposition,  and  they  besought 
him  at  least  to  set  out,  not  from  Versailles,  but  from  his 
stables.  He  refused  even  the  latter  amendment,  and  won 
the  original  bet.  He  established  an  association  of  profli- 
gates, whose  sole  employment  was  to  consult  together  for 
the  purpose  of  devising  some  new  abomination. 

Such  was  the  character  of  the  principal  representatives 
of  the  royal  family  of  France  at  the  period  of  the  out- 
break of  the  revolution.  The  glowing  words  of  Carlyle 


THE  INDIFFEKENCE  OF  THE  NOBILITY.  89 

show  the  utter  blindness  of  the  French  nobility  to  the 
terrible  catastrophe  that  is  about  to  overwhelm  them. 
"  For  the  present,  however,  consider  Longchamp ;  now 
when  Lent  is  ending,  and  the  glory  of  Paris  and  France 
has  gone  forth,  as  in  annual  wont.  Not  to  assist  at  Tene- 
bris  masses,  but  to  sun  itself  and  show  itself,  and  salute 
the  young  spring.  Manifold,  bright- tinted,  glittering  with 
gold;  all  through  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  in  long-drawn 
variegated  rows;  like  long-drawn  living  flower-borders, 
tulips,  dahlias,  lilies  of  the  valley ;  all  in  their  moving 
flower-pots  (of  new-gilt  carriages) :  pleasure  of  the  eye, 
and  pride  of  life !  So  rolls  and  dances  the  procession : 
steady,  of  firm  assurance,  as  if  it  rolled  on  adamant  and 
the  foundations  of  the  world ;  not  on  mere  heraldic  parch- 
ment, under  which  smoulders  a  lake  of  fire.  Dance  on,  ye 
foolish  ones ;  ye  sought  not  wisdom,  neither  have  ye  found 
it.  Ye  and  your  fathers  have  sown  the  wind,  ye  shall  reap 
the  whirlwind.  Was  it  not,  from  of  old,  written:  The 
wages  of  sin  is  death  f"  The  mighty  and  turbulent  wa- 
ters of  that  flood,  were  now  beginning  slowly  to  move  to 
and  fro.  The  agitation  was,  as  yet,  but  gentle  and  insig- 
nificant. But  erelong  it  became  terrible  and  destruc- 
tive. The  unfavorable  impression  produced  upon  the 
French  nation,  by  the  unbridled  licentiousness  of  some  of 
the  members  of  the  house  of  Bourbon,  produced  a  pow- 
erful efiect  in  hastening  on  the  revolution.  The  excited 
minds  of  the  tiers  etat  did  not  distinguish  between  the 
vices  of  the  many,  and  the  redeeming  virtues  of  the  few. 
They  supposed  that  as  the  royal  family  had  been  for  gen- 
erations the  most  corrupt  race  in  Europe,  so  nov  also, 
they  were  all  still  possessed  of  the  same  character.  With 


90  CONSEQUENCES  TO  LOUIS  XVI. 

the  undistinguishing  and  stupid  fury  which  characterizes 
the  rabble  in  all  ages,  they  were  about  to  harass,  to  tor- 
ment, and  to  destroy  the  only  innocent  person  whom,  of 
all  the  royal  family,  they  should  most  carefully  and  anx- 
iously have  protected.  Louis  XVI.  should  have  been  al- 
lowed to  escape  unhurt,  from  the  ravages  of  a  revolution 
which  swept  away  the  whole  royal  family.  But  on  him 
they  expended  the  bitterest  vials  of  their  wrath,  and  de- 
prived him  of  throne,  of  happiness,  and  even  of  life  itself, 
for  no  other  imaginable  reason,  except  that  he  unfortu- 
nately was  boro  &  Bourbon,  and  had  been  crowned  a  kingl 


CHAPTER  III. 

OPENING   SCENES   OF   THE   FIRST  FRENCH   REVOLUTION. 

LET  us  contemplate  Louis  XVI.  as  he  ascends  the 
throne,  and  addresses  himself  to  the  difficult  task  of  con- 
ducting the  operations  of  a  worn-out,  embarrassed,  and 
imbecile  government.  It  may  with  truth  be  said,  that 
his  troubles  had  begun  the  very  day  on  which  he  assumed 
his  ill-fated  scepter. 

One  of  his  first  acts  was  to  appoint  M.  Mauripas  his 
•prime  minister.  This  old  courtier  had  obtained  the  con- 
fidence of  the  king,  by  seeming  never  to  contradict  him. 
Whenever  he  wished  to  gain  the  monarch's  signature  con- 
trary to  his  inclination,  he  never  proposed  the  matter  di- 
rectly. He  said  something  of  interest  respecting  Eng- 
land, or  Spain,  or  the  emperor  of  Germany.  He  an- 
nounced some  particular  success  or  disaster;  and  then, 
under  pretense  that  the  paper  to  be  signed  related  to  the 
subject  of  their  conversation,  he  stole  the  signature  of  the 
confiding  monarch. 

Mauripas  occupied  an  apartment  hi  the  palace  near 
those  of  the  sovereign ;  and  thither  the  latter  would  fre- 
quently repair,  to  spend  his  time  in  the  cheerful  and  di 
verting  society  of  his  minister.  The  salary,  the  style  of 
living,  and  expenditure  of  Mauripas,  were  indeed  suffi- 
ciently unostentatious.  He  possessed  both  sagacity  and 
prudence ;  he  was  laborious  in  the  performance  of  his  du- 


02  MINISTRY  OF  TURGOT. 

ties ;  and  as  for  the  rest,  he  let  the  troubled  world  take 
whatever  course  it  pleased.  Such  was  not  the  man  to 
guide  the  ship  of  state  securely,  in  those  troublous  and 
tempestuous  times. 

The  voice  of  the  nation  demanded  that  M.  Turgot,  an 
honest  man,  and  a  profound  genius,  should  be  called  to 
the  post  held  by  Mauripas.  Louis  obeyed  the  popular 
will.  Mauripas  was  dismissed,  and  Turgot  was  appointed. 
He  had  been  a  priest,  a  prior  of  the  Sorbonne,  and  was 
at  one  time  enthusiastic  enough  to  say,  that  "  all  the  bles&- 
ings  of  the  people  were  derived  from  the  Christian  re- 
ligion." He  afterward  asserted  that  Christianity  "  was  a 
work  of  useless  superstition."  Of  him  Malesherbes  de- 
clared that  he  had  the  head  of  Bacon,  with  the  heart  of 
a  L'Hospital ;  and  that  he  labored  to  effect  the  results- 
which  the  revolution  afterward  accomplished  by  more  vi- 
olent means.  Louis  XVI.  at  this  period  declared  that 
"  the  only  true  friends  of  the  people  were  himself  and 
Turgot."  But  the  minister  was  soon  dismissed,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  opposition  of  the  nobility,  whose  excesses 
he  absurdly  attempted  to  reform.  The  lower  orders,  de- 
lighted at  the  display  of  disinterestedness  which  he  ex- 
hibited in  distributing  three  hundred  thousand  livres 
among  the  poor  of  Paris,  thought  that  prime  ministers 
no  longer  lived,  and  intrigued,  only  for  the  gratification 
of  their  own  avarice.  They  called  Turgot  by  a  name 
which  certainly  does  infinite  honor  to  his  memory — "  the 
virtuous  minister." 

He  was  succeeded  by  M.  Necker,  a  Genevan,  whom 
public  opinion  once  more  designated  to  the  king,  as  a  suit- 
able and  popular  minister.  This  man  was  the  architect 


MINISTRY  OF  NECKER.  93 

of  his  own  fortune,  and  had  amassed  vast  wealth  by  hia 
abilities  as  a  financier.  He  was  a  disciple  of  the  school 
of  Colbert.  He  had  published  several  financial  works, 
which  contributed  to  the  popular  idea  that  he  possessed 
talents  eminently  adapted  to  retrieve  the  falling  fortunes 
of  the  king,  and  of  the  state. 

Nor  were  these  expectations  disappointed.  By  his  first 
measures  Necker  reestablished  order  in  the  finances.  He 
paid  off  the  heavy  debts  contracted  by  the  American  war. 
He  discovered  unexpected  financial  resources.  He  re- 
vived public  credit.  But  he  could  not  remove  the  im- 
mense mountains  of  disabilities  and  sufferings  which 
crushed  the  French  people,  without  introducing  exten- 
sive reforms,  which  touched  the  interests  and  the  abuses 
of  the  higher  orders.  This  he  at  length  attempted  to  do, 
and  the  consequence  was,  that  they  obtained  his  removal, 
as  they  had  done  that  of  Turgot  and  Mauripas  before 
him. 

Louis  next  chose  for  his  prime  minister  M.  Calonne. 
This  man  was  clever,  fertile  in  resources,  confident  in  his 
genius,  and  in  his  measures,  making  great  promises,  en- 
couraging brilliant  hopes,  cheering  the  desponding,  and 
laughing  at  the  difficulties  which  surrounded  the  state. 
His  vigorous  measures  for  a  time  seemed  likely  to  remove 
the  most  dangerous  of  the  impending  evils,  and  threw  a 
brighter  gleam  of  hope  over  the  dark  and  clouded  sky 
which  then  lowered  on  every  side.  To  all  the  demands  of 
the  queen,  he  said :  "  If  what  your  majesty  asks  is  possi- 
ble, it  is  done ;  if  it  is  impossible,  it  shall  be  done."  But 
nothing  of  real  value  could  be  accomplished  without  the 
consent  of  the  privileged  orders.  The  only  way  to  re- 


94  MINISTRY  OF  CALONNE. 

move  the  financial  embarrassment  of  the  nation  was — not 
to  impose  new  taxes  on  the  people,  for  they  would  not 
endure  it ;  nor  to  enlarge  in  any  way  the  expenses  of  the 
government,  for  the  treasury  could  not  afford  it ;  but  to 
extend  the  taxes  to  a  greater  number  of  persons,  that  is, 
to  the  nobility  and  clergy,  who,  possessing  one-half  of  the 
whole  wealth  of  the  kingdom,  were  still  exempt  from  all 
taxation. 

The  year  1788  commenced  with  open  hostilities  be- 
tween the  misguided  king,  and  his  parliament.  The  par- 
liament passed  a  decree,  abolishing  the  lettres-de-cachet  / 
and  demanding  the  recall  of  exiled  persons.  The  king 
canceled  this  decree.  The  parliament  reestablished  it. 
The  king  then  determined  to  attempt,  in  effect,  the  aboli- 
tion of  the  parliaments,  by  taking  away  their  power  of 
judging  without  an  appeal;  by  withdrawing  their  right  to 
register  laws  and  edicts ;  and  thus  to  annihilate  their  po- 
litical influence  and  importance. 

The  king  next  resolved  upon  a  measure,  which,  while  it 
shows  his  good  intentions,  also  clearly  illustrates  how 
poorly  men  can  foresee  the  end  from  the  beginning,  and 
how  often  the  very  measures  which  they  adopt  for  their 
own  advantage  and  protection,  result  in  their  ultimate  in- 
jury and  ruin.  To  conquer  the  opposition  of  the  court 
to  every  wise  measure  of  reform,  Louis  determined  to 
appeal  to  the  tiers  etat,  (the  third  estate,)  and  to  summon 
a  convocation  of  the  "  states-general."  The  consequence 
thus  conferred  by  the  king  himself  upon  the  popular 
voice,  afterward  became  the  engine  of  his  destruction, 
when  the  people  became  perverted  by  the  influence  of 
their  corrupt  and  frantic  leaders. 


LOUIS  SUMMONS  THE  STATES-GENERAL.  95 

The  king  ordained  that  the  states-general  should  con- 
sist of  one  thousand  members ;  that  the  representation 
should  be  in  proportion  to  the  population,  and  to  the 
taxes  paid  in  each  baillage;  and  that  the  number  of  the 
deputies  of  the  tiers  etat,  should  be  equal  to  that  of  the 
other  two  orders  of  the  state  combined. 

This  decree  of  the  king  at  once  threw  France  into  an 
intense  state  of  political  commotion.  Then  arose  that 
spirit  of  popular  declamation  and  discussion,  which  soon 
became  the  general  order  of  the  day,  and  the  disgrace  of 
the  nation.  Immediately  assemblies  were  collected  every- 
where throughout  France,  in  which  the  most  intemperate 
and  excited  minds  raved  on  the  subject  of  the  existing 
abuses ;  on  the  outrages  of  the  court  and  the  nobility ; 
and  on  the  immortal  blessings  of  liberty.  Then  arose 
that  spirit  of  Jacobinism,  so  disgraceful  in  its  character, 
and  so  ruinous  in  its  effects  to  France.  Nothing  now  be- 
gan to  be  heard,  but  the  bowlings  of  insane  demagogues, 
who,  under  pretense  of  inquiries  into  the  state  of  the 
country,  the  necessary  provisions  of  a  new  constitution, 
and  the  reforms  which  were  to  be  effected,  began  to 
threaten  the  overthrow  of  all  the  existing  institutions  of 
society.  They  traduced  the  church.  They  cursed  the 
priesthood.  They  denounced  the  aristocracy.  They  re- 
viled the  court.  They  threatened  the  popular  vengeance 
on  all  dignities,  civil,  ecclesiastical,  and  even  military. 
France  must  be  disenthralled  and  redeemed.  All  the  lib- 
eral professions  must  be  abandoned.  All  the  nobler  arts 
of  life,  and  the  pursuits  of  literature  and  philosophy, 
must  be  renounced.  All  pensions  must  be  abolished.  All 
the  prerogatives  and  appointments  formerly  appendant  to 


9fi  RISE  OF  MODERN  DEMAGOGUES. 

the  crown,  must  be  suppressed.  The  most  necessary 
taxes  must  be  reduced.  The  minister  of  the  king  was 
burned  in  effigy.  The  masses  were  inflamed  by  the  ha- 
rangues at  the  popular  clubs,  and  in  the  dens  of  the  dem- 
agogues, by  those  desperate  and  ruined  men,  who,  having 
nothing  to  lose  by  any  change,  however  unfortunate, 
might  perhaps  gam  by  any  event,  however  disastrous. 
The  affrighted  king  already  saw  the  arms  which  he  had 
unwisely  placed  hi  the  hands  of  the  people  turned  to  his 
own  destruction,  and  that  of  his  throne. 

Even  nature  seemed  to  conspire,  at  this  most  unpropi- 
tious  moment,  to  increase  the  general  discontent,  and  re- 
double the  unpopularity  of  the  unhappy  sovereign.  On 
the  15th  of  July,  1789,  a  furious  hail-storm,  such  as  had 
never  before  visited  the  vine-clad  hills  of  France,  de- 
stroyed the  produce  of  the  earth.  The  consequence  was, 
that  the  inhabitants  of  Paris  were  threatened  with  star- 
vation, from  the  scarcity  and  the  high  prices  of  provisions. 
Riots  occurred  everywhere.  Vast  multitudes  of  vaga- 
bonds without  any  resources,  or  any  regular  pursuit, 
ranged  abroad  throughout  France,  and  excited  the  popu- 
lar frenzy.  Some  unfortunate  speculations  of  the  nobility 
in  grain,  by  which  they  monopolized  a  large  amount  of 
it,  increased  the  evil,  and  drove  these  wretches  to  mad- 
ness. They  threatened  the  palace  of  the  king  at  Ver- 
sailles. They  convulsed  Paris  with  their  commotions. 
The  bakers'  shops  were  pillaged.  A  desperate  and  aban- 
doned woman  brought  some  damaged  flour  to  the  pal- 
ace, forced  herself  into  the  presence  of  Maria  Antoinette, 
exhibited  the  most  insane  fury,  and  even  threatened  vio- 
lence  to  her  person. 


THE  STATES -GENERAL  ELECTED.        97 

Such  was  everywhere  the  state  of  the  nation,  when  the 
elections  for  the  states-general  took  place.  It  may  easily 
be  imagined  what  scenes  of  violence,  extravagance,  and  in- 
sanity would  be  presented  by  an  excited  populace,  and 
especially  by  an  excited  French  populace,  under  such  pe- 
culiar circumstances.  The  elections  everywhere  were 
active,  and  hi  most  places  noisy  and  tumultuous. 

The  states-general  were  now  about  to  assemble.  It 
may  be  supposed  that  the  newly  chosen  representa- 
tives of  the  people  would  be  pledged  by  their  previous 
career,  and  by  their  principles,  to  oppose  the  court,  to  de- 
nounce the  king  and  the  nobility,  and  to  labor  for  the 
establishment  of  universal  liberty  and  equality.  Who 
composed  this  memorable  assemblage?  Provincial  law- 
yers of  no  practice ;  literary  men  who  had  long  starved 
on  the  humble  pittance  which  men  of  letters  generally 
receive  in  return  for  the  produce  of  their  brains ;  trades- 
men who  had  failed  in  business,  and  who  had  no  connec- 
tions to  retain  them  at  home ;  play-actors,  gamblers,  and 
debauchees  of  every  class  and  grade,  for  the  first  time 
found  themselves  incorporated  into  a  deliberative  assem- 
bly, by  a  great  nation,  invested  with  important  powers 
and  prerogatives,  without  any  moral  power  to  overawe 
or  to  moderate  them.  They  resembled  an  assemblage  of 
children  placed  in  an  apartment  filled  with  the  most  deli- 
cate and  valuable  machinery,  which  they  had  the  privilege 
of  handling  and  altering ;  but  which  they  were  soon  ut- 
terly to  ruin  and  destroy. 

The  most  important  circumstance  connected  with  these 
initiatory  events,  was  the  election  of  the  count  de  Mircir 
beau.  He  had  been  already  rejected  by  the  nobility,  the 
E  7 


98  ITS  FIRST  ASSEMBLAGE. 

order  to  which  he  belonged.  He  was  then  supported  by 
the  tiers  etat.  He  canvassed  Provence,  his  native  coun- 
try ;  succeeded  in  being  elected,  as  the  fruit  of  infinite  la- 
bors ;  and  was  enrolled  among  the  immortal  representa- 
tives of  the  people.  At  length  the  moment  of  the  assem- 
bling of  this  extraordinary  body  had  arrived.  The  open- 
ing scene  of  this  most  memorable  epoch  in  modern  histo- 
ry is  about  to  take  place.  France  is  now  to  speak  to  all 
ages  and  to  all  countries,  through  her  assembled  repre- 
sentatives. The  curtain  is  about  to  rise,  and  a  drama  to 
begin,  the  incidents  of  which  present  a  strange  mixture 
of  sublimity  and  of  terror. 

It  cannot  be  disguised  that  France  and  even  Europe, 
looked  on  this  assembly  of  the  states-general  with  solemn 
awe  and  interest.  The  external  forms  which  were  ob- 
served were  not  unworthy  of  the  occasion,  and  were  cal- 
culated to  heighten  the  effect  produced.  The  opening  ses- 
sion occurred  on  the  4th  of  May,  1789.  A  solemn  pro- 
cession took  place  to  the  ancient  and  majestic  cathedral 
of  Notre-Dame.  There  have  been  few  spectacles  more 
imposing  to  the  eye,  or  more  impressive  to  the  senses, 
than  that  which  then  occurred.  The  place  itself  in  which 
this  august  scene  was  enacted,  was  appropriate  to  the  oc- 
casion, and  inspired  the  mind  with  emotions  of  reverence 
and  sublimity.  It  was  the  most  ancient  and  the  most  il- 
lustrious temple  in  France.  It  was  a  Gothic  cathedral, 
in  which  the  majesty  of  human  genius  sat  enthroned  in 
its  lofty  aisles,  its  stupendous  arches,  and  in  the  brilliant 
splendors  of  the  high  altar.  It  was  the  venerable  edifice 
in  which  twenty  kings,  of  generations  long  since  passed 
away,  had  been  crowned.  It  was  the  church  which  had 


THE  PROCESSION  TO  NOTRE  DAME.  99 

echoed  with  the  eloquent  voice  of  Bossuet ;  whose  lofty 
arches  had  resounded  with  the  sublime  pathos  of  Massillon. 
Those  silent  walls  had  witnessed  the  imposing  ceremonies 
which  attended  the  baptisms,  the  coronations,  and  the 
funerals  of  mighty  sovereigns,  long  since  crumbled  to  their 
kindred  dust,  of  Henry  IV.,  of  Louis  X.,  of  Francis  I.,  and 
of  Louis  XIV.  The  imposing  procession  was  headed  by 
the  king  and  queen,  immediately  followed  by  the  court. 
Next  came  the  two  higher  orders,  the  nobility,  splendidly 
dressed,  glittering  with  gold  and  diamonds ;  and  the 
superior  clergy,  attired  in  their  magnificent  vestments. 
Princes,  peers,  and  generals  were  clothed  in  purple,  and 
wore  hats  adorned  with  nodding  plumes.  The  represen- 
tatives of  the  people  came  next.  They  wore  the  plain 
black  suits  of  genteel  citizens ;  and  it  was  observed  by 
the  keen  eye  of  a  contemporary,  that  though  unassuming 
in  their  dress,  their  countenances  seemed  resolute,  deter- 
mined, and  indicated  the  consciousness  of  untried  power. 
It  was  remarked  too,  that  the  duke  of  Orleans,  (Egalite^) 
though  walking  in  the  rear  of  the  nobility,  chose  to  loiter 
BO  far  behind  as  to  become  mixed  with  the  foremost  depu- 
ties of  the  tiers  etat.  The  streets  were  hung  with  tapes- 
try belonging  to  the  crown.  The  regiments  of  the 
French  and  Swiss  guards  formed  a  line  from  St.  Louis  to 
Notre-Dame.  An  immense  concourse  of  citizens  looked 
on  in  respectful  silence.  The  windows  were  filled  with 
spectators  of  all  ages,  and  adorned  by  the  presence  of 
beautiful  women.  Bands  of  music  placed  at  intervals, 
filled  the  air  with  martial  and  melodious  sounds. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  procession  at  N"otre-Dame,  the 
three  orders  seated  themselves  on  benches  placed  in  the 


100  THE  OPENDSG  SERMON. 

nave.  The  king  and  queen  took  their  places  beneath  a 
canopy  of  purple,  spangled  with  golden  fleurs-de-lis.  The 
royal  family,  and  the  great  officers  of  the  crown,  occupied 
seats  near  the  throne.  Impressive  and  solemn  music  re- 
verberated through  the  lofty  arches  of  the  ancient  pile  in 
which  they  were  assembled,  filling  the  countless  multi- 
tude, which  crowded  every  nook  and  avenue,  with  rever- 
ence and  awe. 

The  ceremonies  began  by  a  sermon  from  the  bishop  of 
Nantz.  His  discourse  was  appropriate  to  the  memora- 
ble occasion.  "Religion,"  said  he,  "constitutes  the  great- 
est strength  of  empires.  It  alone  confers  stability  upon 
thrones.  It  alone  secures  the  prosperity  of  nations." 
Next  followed  a  written  address  from  the  king.  He  re- 
commended disinterestedness  and  prudence  to  the  as- 
sembly ;  and  declared  the  purity  and  benevolence  of  his 
own  intentions.  Barentin,  the  keeper  of  the  great  seal, 
then  spoke.  He  was  followed  by  Necker,  the  minister ; 
who  read  a  memorial  on  the  state  of  the  kingdom  and  the 
disorder  of  the  finances.  He  declared  that  there  was  a 
deficiency  in  the  treasury  of  fifty-six  millions. 

Had  any  observer  who  possessed  the  eye  of  omnis- 
cience, then  surveyed  that  vast  assembly,  and  been  able  to 
foresee  the  portentous  future,  what  indescribable  sensa- 
tions would  he  not  have  experienced !  He. would  have 
seen  that  king  and  queen,  then  radiant  with  splendor  and 
majesty,  cruelly  executed  on  the  scaffold,  and  covered 
with  blood.  He  would  have  numbered  out,  among  the 
deputies  there  assembled,  the  hundreds  who,  after  passing 
through  immense  struggles,  would  end  their  days  in  de- 
spair and  ignominy  by  the  knife  of  the  guillotine.  He 


THE  AUDIEXCE.  101 

would  there  have  seen  amid  that  crowd  a  man,  small  in  stat- 
ure, nervous,  and  insignificant;  who  afterward  obtained 
possession  of  a  terrible  power,  and  wielded  it  to  the  de- 
struction and  ruin  of  his  native  land  and  of  his  race — the 
restless,  furious,  and  bloody  Robespierre.  Perhaps,  too, 
among  that  mighty  throng  he  might  have  discerned  an- 
other looker-on,  then  equally  insignificant  in  his  person, 
and  still  more  obscure  in  his  position ;  but  whose  genius 
and  grandeur  in  after  years,  overshadowed  the  world; 
who  afterward  himself  secured  and  wore  the  very  crown 
which  on  that  imposing  day  adorned  the  head  of  the 
heir  of  the  haughty  Bourbons ;  and  who  at  length,  after 
being  the  hero  of  a  hundred  battles,  died  in  solitude  on 
a  remote  and  rock-bound  island  of  the  ocean.  He  mio;ht 

O 

there  have  seen  the  diminutive  figure,  the  pale  face,  and 
the  eagle  eye  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  then  poor  and 
friendless ;  but  indulging  hi  high,  dauntless,  and  aspiring 
hopes.  And  among  the  many  fair  women,  who  graced 
that  scene  with  their  fascinating  smiles,  he  might  have 
noted  Madam  Beauharn.iis,  who  was  also  reserved  for 
a  remarkable  and  memorable  fate,  exceeding  in  romance 
and  interest  that  of  any  other  woman  of  modern  times ; 
whose  chaste  and  seductive  charms  afterward  won  the 
affections  of  the  man  of  iron  will,  and  stupendous  genius, 
with  whom  she  shared  that  throne.  Such  were  the  inci- 
dents connected  with  the  first  meeting  of  the  states-gen- 
eral of  France,  under  Louis  XVI.  Storms  were  lowering 
hi  the  political  heavens.  But  as  yet  there  had  been  no 
violent  outbreaks,  no  demonstrations  of  popular  fury, 
which  indicated  the  horrible  extremes  which  were  soon 
to  ensue.  So  far,  all  had  been  decorous  and  dignified, 


102  DEMANDS  OF  THE  TIERS  ETAT. 

such  as  became  the  sovereign  and  the  representatives  of  a 
great  and  cultivated  people,  assembled  under  ancient 
forms,  and  with  iirmosing  ceremonies,  to  deliberate  on 
measures  promotive  of  the  common  good. 

But  difficulties  and  disturbances  soon  began  to  exist, 
between  the  tiers  etat,  who  now  arrogated  to  themselves 
the  title  of  Commons — a  name  unheard  of  till  then,  in 
French  history — and  the  other  two  orders,  who  constitu- 
ted the  states-general. 

The  commons  assembled  with  a  determination  that  the 
nobility  and  clergy  should  sit  with  them,  in  the  same 
body ;  that  they  should  proceed  together  to  examine  the 
credentials  of  the  representatives  of  each  order ;  and 
thus,  in  conjunction,  should  perform  the  task  of  legislation 
and  reform. 

The  object  of  this  arrangement  was  to  give  the  com- 
mons the  advantage  of  their  superior  numbers,  in  the 
votes  to  be  cast.  The  other  two  orders  discovered  the 
trick,  and  refused  to  acquiesce  in  the  arrangement.  The 
latter  remained  in  their  own  hall,  determined  not  to 
yield.  The  commons  sent  frequent  messages  to  the  clergy 
and  nobility,  urging  their  acquiescence.  They  asked  the 
clergy  in  the  "  name  of  the  God  of  Peace,"  to  submit  to 
a  measure  which  they  thought  necessary  to  the  welfare 
and  prosperity  of  the  country.  Bailly,  the  president  of 
the  commons,  waited  on  the  king  to  urge  his  interposi- 
tion. The  king  declined  interfering  in  the  struggle  be- 
tween the  several  orders.  Neither  party  seemed  dis- 
posed to  give  way.  Mrabeau,  for  the  first  time,  then 
addressed  the  assembly,  and  displayed  that  impressive 
and  powerful  eloquence  which  on  many  subsequent  and 


THE  TITLE  ADOPTED.  103 

memorable  occasions  startled  and  aroused  the  nation, 
and  eventually  shook  the  throne  to  its  center.  He  rose 
and  said  "  that  any  plan  of  conciliation  rejected  by  one 
party,  could  no  longer  be  examined  by  another.  A  month 
was  now  passed  and  nothing  had  been  done."  The  as- 
sembly then  proceeded  to  a  separate  verification  of  creden- 
tials, and  thus  forever  separated  itself,  in  feeling,  in  inter- 
est, and  in  action,  from  the  other  great  orders  of  the 
state. 

The  next  question  to  be  decided  by  the  assembly  was, 
the  name  to  be  used  by  the  representatives  of  the  people. 
Mounier  suggested  that  of  the  "  deliberative  majority  in 
the  absence  of  the  minority."  A  better  cognomen  still 
was  that  proposed  byMirabeau:  "The  representatives 
of  the  French  people."  The  proposition  of  Legrand, 
was  the  one  at  last  agreed  upon,  that  of  the  National 
Assembly. 

The  nobility  and  clergy  were  now  alarmed  at  the  bold- 
ness and  resolution  exhibited  by  the  tiers  etat.  They  had 
not  expected  such  a  display  on  the  part  of  people,  who 
never  before,  in  the  history  of  the  French  nation,  pos- 
sessed the  least  right  to  exercise  legislative  and  politi- 
cal authority.  Necker,  the  minister,  alone  of  those  about 
the  king  was  attached  to  the  popular  cause.  But  the 
court  succeeded  in  resisting  the  plans  of  reconciliation 
which  he  laid  before  the  monarch.  At  length  the  latter 
determined  to  hold  a  royal  sitting,  in  which  the  depu- 
ties of  the  three  orders  were  to  assemble  together,  in 
tne  presence  of  the  king.  The  meeting  was  held ;  but 
the  freedom  of  speech  was  overawed  by  the  presence 
of  soldiery.  The  sitting  had  none  of  the  dignity  andr 


104  MISPLACED  DECISION  OF  THE  KING. 

grandeur  of  the  preceding  one,  which  had  been  held  on 
the  fourth  of  May.  The  king  made  an  address,  in  which 
he  used  violent  expressions,  offensive  to  the  commons. 
He  delared  the  inviolability  of  all  feudal  rights,  both  the 
useful  and  the  honorary.  He  even  indulged  in  reproaches 
against  the  tiers  etat.  He  commanded  the  separate  sit- 
tings  of  the  orders;  thus  aiming  a  blow  at  the  favorite 
measure  of  the  commons.  He  ordered  their  obedience 
and  their  acquiescence  to  such  measures  as  he,  his  minis- 
ters, and  nis  court  should  ordain. 

In  this  instance,  Louis  XVI.  exhibited  the  peculiar 
weakness  of  his  character.  He  had  nothing  in  view  but 
the  interests  of  his  subjects.  This  he  had  clearly  shown 
on  various  occasions.  He  was  himself  not  a  luxurious, 
not  a  tyrannical,  not  an  extravagant,  nor  a  lavish  prince. 
He  had  not  a  single  vice  of  his  own.  But  he  was  unhap- 
pily the  tool  of  the  worst  vices  of  other  men.  In  this  in- 
stance he  was  persuaded,  by  his  selfish  and  unprincipled 
court,  that  the  most  determined  and  resolute  measures 
alone  were  desirable  at  this  crisis ;  and  he  accordingly 
used  them.  The  effect  was  just  what  might  have  been 
expected.  The  commons  were  deeply  incensed.  The 
breach  was  made  wider  than  before ;  the  evil  was  only 
aggravated.  The  nobility  and  clergy  withdrew  from  the 
hall  after  the  conclusion  of  the  king's  address.  The  com- 
mons remained.  Mirabeau  made  a  rude  and  offensive  al- 
lusion to  the  address  of  the  king,  whose  suggestions  were 
considered  by  the  assembly  as  tyrannical  and  impertinent. 
A  subsequent  offer  by  the  higher  orders  to  unite  with  the 
commons,  coming  as  it  did  with  very  bad  grace,  and  pro- 
duced by  the  effect  of  necessity  and  of  apprehension  on 


THE  NEW  CONSTITUTION.  105 

their  part,  was  not  calculated  to  allay  the  existing  bad 
feeling.  This  was  the  first  measure  <5f  open  hostility  and 
contradiction,  between  the  national  assembly  and  the 
king  and  court,  which  had  occurred ;  and  it  was  but  a 
prelude  to  greater  ones. 

The  next  great  question  which  was  presented  for  the 
consideration  of  the  assembly,  was  the  establishment  of 
a  new  constitution  for  the  French  people.  The  constitu- 
tion agreed  upon  by  that  sage  assemblage,  after  protracted 
and  violent  deliberations,  comprised  among  others  the 
following  principles:  That  the  nation  makes  all  laws, 
with  the  royal  sanction;  that  the  national  consent  is 
necessary  for  loans  and  taxes ;  that  taxes  can  be  granted 
only  for  the  period  from  one  convocation  of  the  states- 
general  till  another ;  that  property  and  individual  liberty 
shall  be  sacred ;  and  that  the  person  of  the  king  shall  be 
sacred  and  inviolable. 

While  the  deliberations  of  the  assembly  were  progress- 
ing, the  king,  listening  to  the  slanders  of  the  court,  dis- 
missed Necker  from  the  ministry.  This  measure  was  in- 
judicious, and  filled  the  raving  multitude  with  fury.  For 
the  first  time  in  the  history  of  this  memorable  revolution, 
the  streets  of  Paris  resounded  with  the  cry  "  to  arms ! " 
and  the  enraged  rabble  poured  like  a  flood  though  the 
thoroughfares  of  the  capital.  The  citizens  of  the  higher 
class  assembled,  to  protect  themselves  against  the  attacks 
both  of  the  populace,  and  of  the  royal  troops.  This  was 
the  primary  origin  of  the  National  Guards.  After  vari- 
ous conflicts  in  the  streets  between  the  rioters  and  the 
defenders  of  order,  a  temporary  quiet  was  obtained. 

fury  of  the  rabble,  ibr  the  present,  had  spent  itself. 
E* 


106  THE  BASTILLE. 

The  troops  which  the  king  had  stationed  in  the  Champs 
des  Mars,  were  withdrawn.  And  yet,  the  pervading 
quiet  was  but  a  lull  in  the  storm,  which  was  only  accumu- 
lating, by  repose,  intenser  elements  of  explosion. 

It  was  now  evident  to  every  one  who  observed  the 
state  of  feeling  in  Paris,  the  great  center  of  excitement 
and  of  action  thoughout  France,  that  the  disaffected 
multitudes  who  crowded  the  purlieus  and  the  dens  of  the 
capital,  having  tasted  once  the  sweets  of  excitement  and 
license,  like  the  beast  of  prey  which  has  caught  the  scent 
of  blood,  would  not  henceforth  relapse  into  their  accus- 
tomed quiet  and  apathy.  For  some  days  idle  and  noisy 
crowds  had  thronged  about  the  Bastille.  This  was  a 
memorable  edifice,  and  calculated  from  its  remarkable  his- 
tory and  the  exciting  scenes  connected  with  it,  to  attract 
around  it  the  growing  vengeance  of  the  new  masters  of 
France — the  rabble.  Gradually  the  novel  shout,  "  To  the 
Bastille !  to  the  Bastille  ! "  resounded  through  Paris. 
The  destruction  of  this  ancient  fortress  of  despotism  had 
been  alluded  to  already  in  some  of  the  deliberations  of 
the  national  assembly.  The  populace  yielding  to  the 
hereditary  vengeance  with  which  they  regarded  that  worst 
adjunct  and  most  offensive  appendage  of  past  and  present 
despotism,  determined  on  its  immediate  destruction. 

But  arms  were  entirely  wanting  to  accomplish  this  de- 
sirable end.  The  Bastille  was  a  fortress  of  vast  strength, 
whose  origin  was  traced  back  to  the  eighth  century,  and 
which  had  been  carefully  fortified  by  the  fears  and  the 
jealousy  of  many  succeeding  sovereigns.  It  was  no  easy 
task  to  scale  its  stupendous  and  lofty  battlements ;  to  dis- 
mantle its  strong  towers ;  to  demolish  its  thick  and  mas- 


THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  BASTILLE.  1Q7 

sive  walls ;  within  which  the  cells  were  built,  where  the 
unhappy  victims  of  despotism  during  so  many  ages  had 
worn  away  in  solitude,  in  gloom,  and  in  despair,  the 
cheerless  years  of  their  existence.  But  the  populace  were 
determined  on  its  destruction.  It  was  rumored  that  arms 
were  to  be  had  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville.  The  crowds  rushed 
thither  and  carried  off  the  cannon,  and  a  great  quantity 
of  muskets.  An  immense  concourse  of  people  then 
crowded  around  the  Bastille.  The  commandant  of  the 
fortress,  Delaunay,  had  determined  on  a  vigorous  and 
desperate  defense.  But  the  number  of  men  who  manned 
it  were  few  and  feeble.  It  contained  but  thirty-two  Swiss, 
and  eighty-three  Invalides.  A  fresh  mob  arrived  to  the 
assistance  of  those  already  assembled  around  the  building. 
The  garrison  summoned  the  assailants  to  retire.  They 
refused,  and  began  to  press  onward  to  the  attack.  Two 
men  mounted  the  roof  of  the  guard-house,  and  broke 
with  axes  the  chains  which  suspended  the  draw-bridge. 
It  fell  down  and  the  crowd  rushed  upon  it.  They  were 
met  and  arrested  by  a  discharge  of  musketry.  The 
crowd  for  a  moment  halted,  returned  the  fire,  and  then 
rushed  onward.  A  deputation  at  this  moment  arrived 
from  the  king,  ordering  the  commandant  to  admit  a  de- 
tachment of  the  Paris  militia  within  the  fortress.  This 
did  not  satisfy  the  insurgents.  The  mob  rushed  forward 
to  set  fire  to  the  building.  The  garrison  discharged 
one  of  the  cannon  which  were  mounted  on  the  battle- 
ments, and  this  fire  was  returned  by  the  crowd  with  the 
pieces  which  they  had  brought  with  them. 

'  Meanwhile  the  excitement  became  intense  throughout 
Paris.    The  tocsin  pealed  solemnly  and  continually.    The 


108  THE  GARRISON  CAPITULATES. 

drums  beat  the  generate.  The  increasing  multitude 
flowed  on  through  every  street,  screaming,  roaring,  and 
raging.  The  faubourg  St.  Antoine,  with  its  countless 
masses  of  ragged  and  desperate  wretches,  seemed  march- 
ing on  the  Bastille  as  one  man.  The  infinite  hum  of  an- 
gry voices  swelled  upon  the  breeze  as  they  advanced. 
It  was  a  sublime  though  terrible  spectacle.  Never  be- 
fore had  such  a  scene  been  presented  in  the  history  or 
man. 

The  attack  was  beginning  at  length  to  make  an  im- 
pression on  the  small  and  feeble  garrison.  But  Delaunay 
was  a  man  of  heroic  and  determined  courage.  He  was  re- 
solved that  this  ancient  fortress  should  never  yield  to  the 
attack  of  an  irregular  and  ragged  mob.  He  seized  a 
Lighted  match,  with  the  intention  of  setting  fire  to  the 
magazine  and  blowing  up  the  fortress.  But  the  rest  of 
the  garrison  were  not  quite  as  heroic  as  himself,  and  were 
not  willing  to  share  the  desperate  fate  of  the  commandant. 
They  prevented  his  purpose ;  obliged  him  to  capitulate ; 
and  the  signal  of  surrender  was  made.  The  crowds 
rushed  in  and  took  tumultuous  possession  of  all  the 
courts  ;  threw  open  the  cells  and  let  in  the  cheering  light 
of  day,  upon  many  a  gloomy  abode  of  hopeless  sorrow 
and  despair.  Then  were  thrown  open  and  exposed  to 
the  unutterable  horror  of  men,  the  instruments  of  tor- 
ture and  vengeance  which  had  long  been  the  scourge  of 
France,  and  the  execration  of  mankind.  Within  those 
walls  nine  feet  thick,  those  torture-chambers,  and  those 
dark  and  damp  cells,  what  terrible  cruelties  had  been  perpe- 
trated, during  many  generations !  Let  us  pause  for  a  mo- 
ment and  consider  this  matter.  There,  within  those  cells, 


THE  DEMOLITION  OF  THE  BASTILLE.  1Q9 

youth  and  beauty  in  the  prime  of  their  splendor,  had 
often  been  immolated  to  jealousy  and  hatred.  There  had 
noble  manhood  pined  away  an  existence,  far  worse  than 
death  itself,  without  any  hope  for  the  future,  or  any  joy 
in  the  present.  There  had  perished  the  countless  vic- 
tims of  the  cruelty,  lust,  and  jealousy  of  Richelieu,  of  Ma- 
zarin,  of  De  Ritz,  of  Pompadour,  of  Catherine  de  Med- 
ici, of  Louis  XIV.,  and  of  the  many  other  besotted  and 
infamous  tyrants,  who  at  different  times  had  swayed  the 
destinies  of  France ;  had  expended  her  treasures  in  licen- 
tious luxury ;  and  had  made  the  ruin  of  others  subservi- 
ent to  their  own  ends.  All  this  was  now  to  be  no  more. 
The  victims  of  absolute  power  were  no  longer  to  pine 
away  beneath  its  destructive  blight.  The  prisoners  who 
then  inhabited  those  cells  came  forth — horrid  specimens  of 
blasted  humanity,  frantic  with  joy,  and  as  terrible  in  their 
present  exultation,  as  in  their  former  woe.  The  mob  struck 
off  the  head  of  Delaunay,  the  commandant,  and  rushed 
with  it  and  with  the  keys  of  the  Bastille,  to  the  Hotel  de 
Yille,  where  the  electors  were  assembled.  The  latter 
sent  a  deputation  to  the  king  at  Versailles,  informing 
him  of  the  events  which  had  just  taken  place.  The  king 
immediately  resolved  to  go  the  next  morning  to  the  na- 
tional assembly,  to  consult  with  them  on  the  perilous  sit- 
uation of  affairs. 

When  the  king  entered  the  hall,  it  rang  with  applause. 
He  came  without  guards  and  without  attendants.  His 
two  brothers  alone  accompanied  him.  He  made  a  simple 
and  touching  address,  which  excited  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
assembly.  For  the  first  time  he  called  it  by  the  title  it 
had  arrogated  to  itself— the  national  assembly.  The 


HO  RECALL  OF  NECKER. 

deputies,  when  the  address  was  ended,  escorted  him  on 
foot  to  the  palace.  The  queen  beheld  the  approaching 
crowd  from  a  balcony,  holding  her  son,  the  dauphin, 
in  her  arms.  She  was  cheered  with  enthusiasm.  It 
seemed,  indeed,  as  if  a  reconciliation  had  at  length  been 
made  between  the  alienated  powers  of  the  state ;  be- 
tween the  heir  of  royalty,  and  the  zealous  representa- 
tives of  the  French  people.  It  was  but  a  passing  gleam 
of  sunshine,  which  illumined  for  a  moment  a  vast  hemis- 
phere of  lowering  storms  and  destructive  tempests. 

General  La  Fayette,  but  recently  returned  from  his 
American  expedition,  was  appointed  governor  of  Paris  ; 
and  the  king  himself  resolved  to  go  thither,  and  take 
up  his  residence  in  the  capital,  as  a  safer  and  more  ap- 
propriate asylum  amid  the  existing  troubles.  He  was 
honorably  received  on  his  approach  by  Bailly,  at  the  head 
of  the  municipal  authorities,  at  the  gates  of  Paris ;  who 
presented  him  the  keys.  He  passed  on  to  the  Hotel  de 
Ville.  He  there  made  another  simple  and  touching  ad- 
dress to  the  multitude.  His  words  were  received  with 
applause.  The  monarch  seemed  again  to  have  secured  a 
reconciliation  with  Paris,  just  as  he  had  already  done 
with  the  national  assembly.  He  heightened  the  popular 
enthusiasm  in  his  favor,  at  this  moment,  by  announcing 
his  determination  to  recall  Necker  to  the  ministry.  An 
express  was  immediately  sent  by  the  king  to  Basle,  to  an 
nounce  to  the  exiled  minister,  at  once  his  recall  to  power, 
and  the  disgrace  and  banishment  of  his  opponents,  the 
Polignac  faction.  Necker  immediately  set  out  for  Paris ; 
and  his  journey  through  this  land  of  his  adoption  was  one 
constant  series  of  triumphs  and  congratulations. 


ACTS  PASSED  BY  THE  ASSEMBLY.  m 

Meanwhile  the  national  assembly  proceeded  with  its 
discussions  on  the  provisions  of  the  new  constitution. 
The  first  great  object  of  their  hostility  was  the  feudal 
privileges,  which  had,  for  so  many  ages,  been  the  curse 
and  bane  of  France.  After  long  deliberation,  the  assem- 
bly resolved  upon  the  following  fundamental  principles 
as  the  future  basis  of  French  government,  and  French 
liberty :  That  the  quality  of  serf  should  be  forever  abol- 
ished ;  that  all  seignorial  distinctions  should  be  removed ; 
that  exclusive  rights  to  keep  game,  to  hunt,  to  have  dove- 
cotes and  warrens,  and  all  tithes  should  be  abolished; 
that  all  taxes  should  be  equalized ;  that  all  citizens  should 
be  admitted  to  civil  and  military  employments ;  that  the 
sale  of  offices  and  pensions  without  claims  should  also 
be  abolished.  These  important  and  wise  decrees  were 
presented  to  the  king,  in  the  new  constitution,  for  his  ac- 
ceptance and  ratification.  His  answer  was  a  simple  ac- 
ceptance, with  a  promise  "  to  promulgate."  He  did  not 
in  form  approve  of  them.  He  reserved  his  final  judg- 
ment upon  the  points  or  decrees  already  submitted  to  him, 
until  the  whole  constitution  had  been  agreed  upon  by  the 
assembly. 

This  partial  refusal  of  Louis  to  acquiesce  in  whatever 
the  representatives  of  the  people  might  require  of  him, 
filled  that  excitable  assembly  with  rage.  All  the  good 
and  conciliatory  impression  produced  by  the  passages  of 
friendship  which  had  just  occurred  between  the  sovereign 
and  his  subjects  were  lost,  and  their  influence  wholly  ef- 
faced by  the  irritating  effect  of  his  hesitation  to  yield  an 
implicit  and  prompt  obedience  to  their  demands. 


1 12  BRIGHT  SIDE  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 

So  far,  the  objects  and  the  results  of  the  French  revo- 
lution may  be  approved  of  by  every  rational  observer, 
as  commendable.  The  abolition  of  old  abuses  which  had 
been  decreed  by  the  assembly,  was  a  good  measure.  The 
destruction  of  the  Bastille  was  a  desirable  one.  And 
whatever  else  the  revolution  had  effected,  until  this  crisis, 
was  on  the  whole,  an  improvement  upon  the  past,  and 
held  forth  portents  of  hope  and  prosperity  for  the  future. 
But  from  this  hour  the  darker  side  of  the  revolutionary 
picture  begins  to  appear.  From  this  hour  Louis  be- 
comes a  persecuted,  injured,  outraged  martyr  to  the  in- 
sensate fury  of  an  excited  and  misled  assembly  and  na- 
tion. From  this  hour  nothing  but  evil  can  be  discerned 
in  the  principles  asserted,  in  the  measures  adopted,  and 
in  the  crimes  committed  by  the  revolution,  its  leaders, 
and  its  agents.  We  see  from  this  period,  a  disposition 
displayed  on  the  part  of  those  who  had  risen  unexpect- 
edly to  the  guidance  of  public  affairs,  to  run  into  the  worst 
excesses ;  to  overturn  whatever  was  an  appendage  or  a 
product  of  the  past ;  and  to  revel  in  the  blood  and  rum 
first  of  their  sovereigns,  then  of  their  associates,  and  lastly 
of  their  country  itself.  The  hopes  which  all  wise  arid 
good  men  had  entertained,  and  which  many  of  them  had 
expressed  at  the  beginning  of  the  revolution,  now  began 
to  be  disappointed.  They  no  longer  praised  and  com- 
mended this  great  moving  of  the  popular  mind.  They 
saw  in  it  henceforth  nothing  but  injury,  and  that  continu- 
ally, to  all  the  political,  social,  and  religious  interests  of  the 
nation. 

The  representatives  of  the  people  were  now  completely 
alienated  from  Louis  XVI.  and  they  sought  everywhere 


FAULTS  OF  THE  QUEEN.  113 

for  grounds  to  justify  the  hostility  which  they  had  com- 
menced, and  were  determined  to  pursue. 

Unfortunately,  the  members  of  his  own  family  furnished 
causes  of  offense  to  these  captious  observers.  The  con- 
duct and  character  of  Maria  Antoinette  were  by  no  means 
as  unobjectionable  as  that  of  her  husband.  As  is  generally 
the  case,  the  few  acts  of  indiscretion,  perhaps  of  vice, 
which  she  committed  were  immensely  magnified  and  per- 
verted ;  so  that  she  soon  lost  all  hold  upon  the  popular 
reverence  and  respect.  In  the  first  place,  she  discarded 
all  the  ancient  forms  of  etiquette,  observed  in  the  French 
court,  whenever  a  whim  led  her  so  to  do.  She  even  vio- 
lated decorum,  and  afterward  failed  to  conceal  it.  She 
frequently  left  the  palace  at  all  hours  of  the  evening ;  she 
would  walk  alone  in  the  park  ;  she  would  carefully  elude 
her  husband's  search  after  her,  by  sleeping  out  of  her 
own  chamber,  in  contempt  of  the  established  usages  of 
the  court.  An  ecclesiastic,  respectable  for  his  virtues, 
and  his  distinction  as  a  physician,  being  sent  for  by  her,  he 
found  her  stretched  out  naked  at  full  length,  in  her  bath. 
The  ecclesiastic  modestly  drew  back ;  but  she  summoned 
him  to  her  side ;  compelled  him  there  to  converse  with 
her ;  and  to  admire  the  beautiful  symmetry  of  her  person. 
It  was  in  this  attitude  that  she  had  her  picture  drawn, 
and  exhibited  even  in  a  public  display  of  works  of  art. 
Madame  de  Noailles  reproved  her  for  these  indiscretions ; 
and  in  return  the  queen  named  her  Madam  $  Etiquette. 

The  French  people  had  learned  to  regard  the  queen  as 
an  Austrian,  not  as  a  French  woman.  The  visit  of  her 
brother  Joseph  II.,  emperor  of  Germany,  to  Paris,  in- 
creased the  popular  aversion  to  the  house  of  Hapsburg. 

8 


]  14  JOSEPH  II.  VISITS  PARIS. 

He  penetrated  into  the  manufactories,  dock-yards,  and 
ports.  He  made  requests  at  Havre  which  were  directly 
promotive  of  his  own  maritime  interests,  to  the  prejudice 
of  those  of  France.  The  merchants  and  artists  thought 
that  he  visited  France  rather  as  a  jealous  spy  than  as  an 
admiring  guest.  He  traveled  with  his  brother,  the  arch- 
duke Maximilian.  When  on  a  visit  to  Buffon,  the  nat- 
uralist, the  author  as  a  matter  of  courtesy  offered  him 
an  expensive  copy  of  his  Natural  History.  The  arch- 
duke very  properly  declined  to  deprive  the  author  of  it ; 
but  Joseph  H.  immediately  requested  the  work  for  him- 
self in  so  direct  a  manner,  that  courtesy  forbade  a  refusal. 
On  the  whole,  the  visit  of  the  brothers  of  the  queen  to 
her  adopted  country,  produced  an  unfavorable  impression 
upon  a  nation,  whose  suspicions  and  whose  resentment 
were  already  aroused. 

After  their  departure,  the  position  of  Maria  Antoinette 
became  more  friendless  than  before.  Slanders  more  in- 
jurious and  serious  than  the  preceding  ones,  were  circu- 
lated respecting  her.  She  was  directly  accused,  by  popu- 
lar scandal,  of  admitting  her  lovers  to  her  embraces.  Of 
this  number  was  Edward  Dillon,  termed  the  handsome  ; 
M.  De  Cogni,  and  the  Count  d'Artois.  "  We  made  this 
discovery  at  cards,"  said  a  lady  of  the  court,  at  the  time 
it  occurred ;  "  for  the  Count  d'Artois  trod  on  the  toes, 
and  pinched  Madam  de  B.  in  a  moment  of  thoughtlessness, 
thinking  it  was  Maria  Antoinette." 

So  publicly  was  the  queen  accused  of  depraved  morals, 
that  Madam  de  Marsan  made  serious  representations  on 
the  subject  to  the  king.  She  was  accused  of  carrying  on 
a  secret  connection  with  Madam  Bertin,  a  famous  procu- 


ORGIES  OF  THE  TRIANON.  115 

ress  of  the  capital,  and  likewise  with  M'dlles  4.rJuimond, 
Kenaud,  aud  Gentil.  It  was  known,  that  after  the  king 
retired  to  rest,  the  queen  in  company  with  tho  Count  d' 
Artois  mixed  with  the  suspicious  crowd  who  promenaded 
at  that  hour  on  the  terrace.  Many  persons  came  there 
from  the  palace  all  disguised — the  queen  among  the 
rest.  The  degree  of  liberty  there  taken  by  the  maskers, 
degenerated  into  licentiousness.  Many  of  the  young  lib- 
ertines of  the  court  were  present ;  and  on  one  occasion, 
a  handsome  guard  du  corps  dared  to  flatter  himself  ^ith 
hopes  of  the  queen.  He  accosted  her,  and  in  a  decisive 
manner  said,  "  Madam  forgive  my  boldness ;  but  either 
gratify  me  or  die ! "  The  queen  immediately  replied, 
"  Neither,  sir."  She  however  had  him  followed ;  and  af- 
terward promoted  his  advancement.. 

The  secret  orgies  at  the  small  palace  of  the  Trianon, 
excited  the  apprehension  of  the  king.  Within  the  closed 
doors  of  this  building  the  queen  and  her  intimate  friends 
amused  themselves  with  various  games.  Some  of  them 
were  not  of  the  most  delicate  or  innocent  nature.  OP 
one  occasion  the  party,  after  reading  an  account  in  Buffon 
of  the  loves  of  the  stags,  thought  it  would  be  very  enter- 
taining to  represent  those  animals,  in  dresses  made  of 
their  skins.  It  is  said  that  after  the  company  had  ranged 
about  the  recesses  of  the  gardens  in  the  singular  costume 
of  those  animals,  they  thought  it  also  entertaining  to  par- 
take of  their  pleasures ! 

The  consequence  of  these  indulgences  may  be  easily 
conjectured.  The  queen  was  at  length  accused  even  of  a 
love  of  variety.  To  the  handsome  Dillon,  to  Coigne,  and 
to  her  other  admirers,  it  was  said  M.  de  Fersen  succeeded, 


116  DISTINGUISHED  IMPOSTORS. 

who  was  able  more  successfully  than  they,  to  fix  and  hold 
her  volatile  affections.  She  spared  no  expense  in  her 
pleasures.  For  her  private  establishment  she  yearly  spent 
four  millions  six  hundred  thousand  livres.  Trianon  cost 
the  nation  seventy-two  thousand  livres ;  and  the  palace 
of  St.  Cloud  cost  four  hundred  thousand. 

There  were  other  disreputable  transactions  of  the  court 
which  about  this  period  increased  the  contempt  and  dis- 
satisfaction of  the  French  nation,  and  helped  among  other 
causes,  to  produce  the  destruction  of  the  government  and 
the  triumph  of  the  revolutionary  agitators. 

The  period  of  which  we  speak  was  also  the  age  of  em- 
pirics and  impostors.  The  names  and  exploits  of  Caglios- 
tro,  of  Mesmer,  of  St.  Germain,  and  of  Bleton,  now  occur ; 
all  celebrated  masters  in  the  arts  of  imposition,  of  solemn 
and  mysterious  humbug.  We  find  in  the  records  of  that 
period,  materials  and  events  which  prove  that  then  it  was, 
that  the  impostures  of  modern  spiritual  rappers  and  me- 
diums were  first  practiced,  in  precisely  the  same  way, 
and  for  the  same  results,  as  they  are  in  the  present  day. 
Unhappily  for  Louis  XVI.  some  of  his  own  family  became 
the  despised  victims  of  the  impostures  of  these  wretches. 
Count  Cagliostro  enabled  Cardinal  Rohan  to  sup  with  the 
deceased  D'Akmbert,  with  the  king  of  Prussia,  and  with 
Voltaire,  all  dead  some  years  before.  He  convinced  his 
eminence,  that  the  worker  of  these  wonders  had  himself 
been  present  with  Christ  at  the  marriage  hi  Cana  of 
Gallilee. 

But  still  higher  and  nobler  game  was  sought  for  by  those 
shameless  impostors,  and  the  French  nation  were  aston- 
ished and  disgusted  to  hear  that  the  duke  of  Orleans  had 


THEIR  MYSTERIOUS  TRICKS.  117 

become  the  dupe  of  one  of  the  leading  jugglers  of  the  day. 
One  day,  on  entering  his  library,  he  there  found  a  man 
awaiting  him,  of  austere  and  remarkable  countenance ; 
who  told  him  that  he  could  raise  the  prince  of  darkness, 
and  learn  from  him  the  mysteries  of  futurity.  The  duke 
accepted  the  offer  of  the  magician,  who  required  however 
that  he  should  have  courage  to  trust  himself  with  the  lat- 
ter in  a  pathless  plain,  alone,  and  at  the  dead  hour  of 
midnight.  The  duke  acquiesced  in  each  of  these  propo- 
sals, and  went  with  the  impostor  to  the  center  of  a  vast 
heath  unattended,  in  a  dark  and  stormy  night.  He  over- 
came the  terror  which  at  first  arose  in  his  breast,  at  the 
sight  of  the  numerous  specters  which  surrounded  him. 
After  various  admonitions  and  prophecies  he  gave  the 
duke  a  ring.  "  Keep  this  carefully, "  said  the  infernal 
spirit ;  "  as  long  as  it  remains  in  your  possession,  it  will  be 
a  token  of  prosperity  and  happiness ;  as  soon  as  you  lose 
it,  your  doom  is  sealed."  The  magician  refused  a  purse 
of  five  hundred  louis  which  the  prince  offered  him  on  their 
safe  return.  When  describing  this  incident  to  others 
the  duke  would  open  his  breast,  and  exhibit  the  ring, 
carefully  attached  to  his  person. 

In  these  incidents  we  see  the  origin  and  the  operation 
of  the  spiritual  communications  of  the  present  day.  In 
the  triumphs  of  Cagliostro,  of  Mesmer,  and  of  St.  Germain, 
which  at  this  period  were  at  their  greatest  height,  we 
behold  another  instance  of  the  uprooting  of  the  firm  and 
stable  foundations  of  society  in  an  excessive  desire  for 
novelties,  and  a  restless  itching  after  things  new,  mysteri- 
ous, and  wonderful.  The  French  were  in  the  eager  pur- 
suit of  such  novelties  both  in  philosophy,  theoretical  and 


118  CARDINAL  DE  ROHAN. 

practical ;  in  religion,  in  moral  opinions,  in  politics,  and 
the  organization  of  their  government.  While  Mesmer 
declared  that,  with  the  point  of  his  finger,  he  could  direct 
the  mysterious  magnetic  fluid  to  any  part  of  the  body, 
which  was  the  seat  of  disease,  and  thus  cure  dropsy,  the 
gout,  palsy,  deafness,  blindness,  and  every  other  evil  inci- 
dent to  the  human  frame ;  so  in  the  same  way,  and  with 
the  same  degree  of  truth,  did  Voltaire  and  Rosseau  pre- 
tend to  teach  mankind  the  true  principles  of  religion ; 
and  Murat  and  Robespierre  assume  to  assert  the  excel- 
lence of  their  doctrines  in  suppoit  of  political  equality,  and 
of  human  freedom. 

Other  untoward  events  conspired  about  this  period  to 
increase  the  unpopularity  of  the  royal  family,  and  to  con- 
centrate its  misfortunes  upon  the  head  of  Louis  XVI. 
Among  these  one  of  the  most  important,  most  mysterious, 
and  most  injurious,  was  the  memorable  affair  of  the  dia- 
mond necklace.  It  is  difficult  to  obtain  a  clear  and  satis- 
factory account  of  this  mysterious  event,  which  exerted  so 
powerful  an  influence  on  the  destiny  of  France.  We  will 
however  state  its  origin  and  its  results. 

When  Cardinal  de  Rohan,  who  belonged  to  one  of  the 
oldest  and  most  illustrious  families  of  the  French  nobility, 
was  sent  as  minister  from  Louis  XV.  to  Vienna,  he  was 
requested  to  describe  Maria  Antoinette  to  one  of  his  cor 
respondents  at  Paris.  He  drew  rather  an  offensive  pic- 
ture of  the  then  youthful  arch-duchess.  By  some  acci- 
dent this  unfavorable  representation  of  the  cardinal  be- 
came known  to  her,  and  at  once  filled  her  mind  with  im 
placable  hatred  toward  its  author.  Upon  her  arrival  in 
France,  Rohan  attempted  on  various  occasions,  to  regain 


THE  DIAMOND  NECKLACE.  119 

her  good  will.  All  his  efforts  were  in  vain.  Previous  to 
the  death  of  Louis  XV.  Bohmer  the  crown  jeweler,  had 
prepared  a  magnificent  diamond  necklace  of  immense 
value,  for  Madam  Du  Barry,  the  king's  favorite.  That 
monarch's  death  diverted  the  expensive  gift  from  its  origi- 
nal destination,  and  left  it  upon  the  hands  of  the  jeweler. 
Rohan  heard  of  the  jewel,  and  also  heard  that  Bohmer 
had  desired  to  sell  it  to  the  queen,  who  declined  to  pur- 
chase it  on  account  of  its  great  value  and  immense  price.  A 
prostitute  of  the  Palais  Royal,  named  Lamoth,  being  in  ne- 
cessitous circumstances,  and  being  acquainted  both  with 
the  cardinal  and  with  his  desire  to  secure  the  queen's  favor, 
and  even  her  embraces,  conceived  a  plot  whereby  to  obtain 
the  jewel,  and  to  ruin  the  priest.  She  went  to  Bohmer 
and  told  him  that  the  queen  had  changed  her  mind,  and 
desired  to  purchase  the  necklace,  stipulating  only  that 
she  should  pay  at  intervals,  and  that  the  whole  transaction 
should  be  kept  secret  from  the  king.  Bohmer  agreed  to 
these  terms.  She  added  that  in  support  of  her  assuran- 
ces, she  would  present  him  with  a  letter  from  the  queen, 
and  that  one  of  the  first  men  of  the  court  would  wait  upon 
him,  and  conclude  the  bargain. 

The  cunning  courtesan  next  went  to  the  cardinal.  She 
told  him  that  the  queen  would  not  only  accord  him  her 
friendship,  but  even  her  more  tender  favors,  on  condition 
that  he  would  present  her  with  this  diamond  necklace. 
The  cardinal  consented  to  the  bargain.  He  waited  on 
Bohmer ;  represented  to  him  that  the  queen  wished  the 
jewel ;  that  she  had  commissioned  him  to  purchase  it  for 
her,  stipulating  that  the  first  payment  should  be  made  in 
August  ensuing.  The  price  was  to  be  fourteen  hundred 


120  ADROITNESS  OF  LAMOTH. 

thousand  livres — three  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars. 
The  jewel  was  then  delivered  to  M'lle  Laraoth,  to  deliver 
it  to  Maria  Antoinette.  In  the  meantime  the  cardinal  ex- 
pected his  promised  interview  with  the  queen.  The  cun- 
ning of  the  prostitute  did  not  fail  her  in  this  part  of  the 
intrigue.  She  informed  the  cardinal  that  Maria  Antoi- 
nette had  appointed  to  meet  him  in  a  remote  spot  of  the 
gardens  at  Versailles ;  that  she  would  be  dressed  hi  white ; 
and  that  she  would  make  herself  known  by  presenting 
him  with  a  white  rose.  She  then  selected  one  of  her  aban- 
doned associates,  whose  person  and  gait  somewhat  re- 
sembled that  of  the  queen,  who,  at  the  time  and  place  ap- 
pointed, appeared  in  the  partial  darkness ;  gave  him  the 
rose  ;  allowed  him  to  kiss  her  hand ;  and  then,  an  alarm 
being  purposely  made,  commanded  him  hastily  to  retire. 
The  day  for  payment  at  length  arrived.  The  expected 
money  did  not  come ;  nor  did  the  queen,  the  supposed 
debtor  to  Bohmer,  make  any  apology  or  explanation  for 
her  neglect.  Bohmer  sent  a  message  to  the  queen,  desiring 
to  know  why  the  first  payment  had  not  been  made.  She 
was  thunderstruck.  It  was  the  first  intimation  which  she 
had  received  of  the  matter.  Bohmer  was  sent  for.  Among 
othei  proofs,  he  produced  a  letter  from  the  cardinal,  sta- 
ting that  the  necklace  had  been  duly  delivered  to  the 
queen.  After  arranging  all  her  information  respecting  the 
matter,  she  communicated  it  to  the  king.  The  cardinal, 
who  was  then  at  the  palace  as  grand  almoner,  was  sent 
for  at  midnight,  into  the  King's  cabinet,  where  the  queen 
awaited  him.  The  king  demanded  to  know  whether  he 
had  recently  purchased  any  jewels  of  Bohmer.  The  car- 
dinal answered  that  he  had,  and  he  thought  that  they  had 


EFFECT  OF  THE  INTRIGUE,  121 

been  delivered  to  the  queen.  The  king  asked  who  em- 
ployed him  in  that  commission  ?  He  replied,  a  lady 
whom  he  believed  to  be  connected  with  the  court,  named 
Larnoth.  The  cardinal  then  said,  that  he  plainly  per- 
ceived he  had  been  imposed  upon.  Pie  was  so  much  over- 
come with  terror,  that  he  was  compelled  to  lean  upon  the 
table  for  support.  The  king  then  ordered  him  to  with- 
draw ;  and  he  was  arrested  on  leaving  the  palace.  Md'lle 
Lamoth  was  also  imprisoned,  but  she  had  sent  the  jewels 
composing  the  necklace  already  to  England,  and  they 
were  then  beyond  the  reach  of  recovery.  She  at  first  de- 
nied all  knowledge  of  the  affair ;  and  directed  the  king 
to  inquire  of  Cagliostro,  the  famous  impostor.  The  car- 
dinal was  afterward  tried,  and  honorably  acquitted.  La- 
moth  was  executed,  after  being  scourged.  Cagliostro  was 
at  firs'u  arrested;  and  then  banished  from  the  French 
territory. 

Such  was  the  end  of  this  lamentable  intrigue.  But  the 
impression  produced  at  that  time  against  the  queen,  and 
against  Louis  XVI.,  by  its  unfortunate  occurrence,  was 
very  powerful.  The  French  people  thought  that  the  vir- 
tue of  Maria  Antoinette  must  be  very  questionable  indeed 
among  those  who  knew  her  best,  if  a  false  appointment, 
or  if  even  the  pretense  of  a  pretended  assignation,  could 
be  made  for  her  for  such  a  purpose.  But  whether  true 
or  false,  whether  innocent  or  guilty,  the  perverse  and  ex- 
cited minds  of  the  nation  were  determined  to  put  the 
worst  possible  construction  upon  the  conduct  of  the  proba- 
bly innocent  and  unconscious  queen.  Nor  was  this  inju- 
rious impression  afterward  removed,  !-r  even  weakened, 

F 


122  INCREASING  DIFFICULTIES. 

by  a  decree  of  the  national  assembly  exculpating  her  from 
all  blame. 

It  was  at  this  period  in  the  progress  of  the  revolution; 
that  the  king  said  one  day  to  M.  Necker,  who  had  been 
recalled  to  the  ministry,  "  For  several  years  I  have  only 
enjoyed  a  few  moments  of  happiness?"*  Necker  replied, 
"Yet  a  little  while,  sire,  and  you  will  feel  differently; 
all  will  yet  end  well."  Vain  and  delusive  hope  !  Ever 
since  the  refusal  of  Louis  XVI.  to  approve  without  re- 
serve all  those  articles  of  the  new  constitution  which  had 
been  determined  upon  by  the  national  assembly,  and  sent 
to  him  for  his  acceptance,  his  fate  seemed  to  be  inevita- 
bly and  unalterably  sealed.  The  discussions  which  imme- 
diately ensued  upon  his  refusal  being  reported  to  the 
assembly,  first  called  out  into  prominence  three  men 
who  afterward  became  notorious  and  infamous,  on  the 
bloody  and  tumultuous  stage  of  the  revolution — "Robes- 
pierre, Mirabeau,  and  Danton.  The  first  of  these  declared 
with  a  violence  which,  for  the  first  time,  attracted  to  him 
the  attention  of  the  whole  assembly,  that  it  was  not  the 
province  or  the  prerogative  of  the  king  to  criticise  the 
decisions  of  the  assembly. 

While  the  assembly  was  distracted  from  day  to  day, 
by  the  most  \iolent  discussions — the  particulars  of  which 
are  not  pertinent  to  this  history — the  crowds  of  Paris  were 
incensed  against  the  court  and  ministry,  in  consequence 
of  the  scarcity  of  provisions.  A  deputation  of  incensed 
and  frantic  women  forced  their  way  into  the  presence  of 
Louis,  and  laid  before  him  their  complaints  and  their 
grievances.  He  received  them  kindly,  as  it  ever  was  his 
custom  to  do ;  and  by  the  mildness  and  moderation  of  his 


TRIUMPH  OF  MIRABEAU.  123 

manner  disarmed  their  fury.  Women,  if  properly  ad- 
dressed, generally  listen  to  reason,  and  feel  the  influence 
of  softening  emotions.  They  retired,  appeased  by  the  re- 
ception which  they  had  received.  He  ordered  the  mu- 
nicipal authorities  to  distribute  bread  among  this  crowd, 
who  seemed  to  be  in  absolute  want  of  it.  For  some  rea- 
son, however,  his  order  was  not  complied  with,  and  the 
odium  of  this  neglect  rested  on  the  king  alone. 

The  royal  family  had  now  taken  up  their  residence  in 
Paris,  in  the  palace  of  the  Tuilleries,  which  had  not  been 
inhabited  for  a  century.  A  guard  of  the  Parisian  militia 
was  placed  around  it,  commanded  by  Lafayette,  who  was 
thus  made  responsible  for  the  person  of  the  king.  By 
this  arrangement  the  whole  appearance  of  the  court  was 
immediately  changed.  There  was  in  effect  no  longer  any 
court  at  all.  The  aristocracy  were  excluded  from  the  royal 
presence  by  the  restraint  under  which  the  king  was  placed. 
From  that  nour  they  considered  him  in  reality  a  prisoner ; 
and  then  commenced  that  process  of  emigration  which 
deprived  France  of  some  of  its  noblest  blood,  while  it  se- 
cured many  of  them  from  the  horrors  of  the  guillotine, 
which  overtook  so  many  of  their  associates. 

From  this  moment  the  popular  party  in  France  may  be 
regarded  as  triumphant.  It  was  then  under  the  guidance 
and  control  of  Mirabeau,  Barnave,  Lamoth,  and  the  duke 
of  Orloans.  While  great  numbers  of  the  nobles  were  es- 
caping to  Turin,  and  to  Coblentz,  the  royal  family  be- 
came more  and  more  deserted ;  the  number  and  fury  of 
its  enemies  increased ;  the  audacity  of  the  demagogues 
was  elevated ;  and  it  seemed  an  easier  task  and  a  richer 
sport  to  these  unprincipled  wretches,  to  play  with  the 


124  HE  JOINS  THE  COURT  PARTY. 

royal  prerogatives,  and  to  ruin  the  welfare  and  destroy  the 
existence  of  the  unhappy  but  illustrious  family  who  were 
then  at  their  mercy. 

It  was  at  this  period  that  Mirabeau,  who,  by  his  revo- 
lutionary eloquence  had  greatly  contributed  to  sap  the 
foundations  of  the  trembling  throne,  seeing  his  ambition 
of  popular  supremacy  thwarted  and  intercepted  by  other 
demagoges  as  aspiring,  as  violent,  and  as  unprincipled  as 
himself,  bethought  him  of  the  project  of  standing  as  a 
mediator  between  the  throne  and  the  tribune,  between 
the  king  and  the  assembly.  The  court  first  tampered  with 
him  by  means  of  Malouet,  an  agent  of  Necker.  He  stipu- 
lated that  his  debts  should  be  paid,  and  that  he  should 
have  a  place  in  the  ministry.  On  these  conditions  be  con- 
sented to  espouse  the  cause  of  the  king  and  the  court ; 
to  assert  that  the  concessions  in  favor  of  liberty  which 
were  already  gained  were  sufficient ;  and  that  it  was  now 
time  to  arrest  the  advancing  tide  of  revolution  and  of 
change. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   TERRIBLE   POWER  OF  ROBESPIERRE  AND  THE  JACOBIN 
CLUB. 

WHEN  the  period  arrived  for  the  dissolution  of  the  na- 
tional assembly  of  France,  in  179?,  it  had  accomplished 
far  greater  results  than  had  ever  been  expected  of  it, 
Not  even  the  most  sanguine  Jacobins  of  the  day  had  an- 
ticipated that  the  representatives  of  the  people  would,  In 
so  short  a  time,  so  completely  have  degraded  and  debased 
the  throne  and  all  its  tune-honored  institutions,  and  that 
it  would  so  thoroughly  have  established  the  reign  of  popu- 
lar prerogative  and  supremacy  in  their  stead. 

The  new  assembly  which  was  about  to  convene  as  their 
successors,  included  among  its  members  men  whose  names 
were  then  wholly  unknown  to  fame,  but  whose  talents 
soon  placed  them  on  an  equality  in  distinction,  with  any 
who  had  already  figured  in  the  national  assembly.  These 
were  the  deputies  of  La  Gironde,  a  department  of  France 
which  produced  many  celebrated  statesmen,  of  whom  Con- 
dorcet  was  the  most  profound  and  Vergniaud  was  the  most 
eloquent. 

In  addition  to  this  change  in  the  legislative  assembly  of 
France,  another  alteration  had  taken  place  in  the  political 
machinery  of  the  country.  The  democratic  clubs  had  now 
become  omnipotent.  The  most  remarkable  and  danger- 
ous of  these,  was  that  of  the  Jacobins,  so  called  from  hold- 


126  RISE  OF  ROBESBIERRE. 

ing  their  meetings  in  the  old  suppressed  monastery  of  the 
Jacobin  monks. 

This  building,  whose  form  was  that  of  an  ampitheater, 
and  was  admirably  adapted  to  the  purposes  of  popular  elo- 
quence, having  been  appropriated  to  their  own  use  by  the 
oldest  and  largest  of  the  political  clubs  in  all  France,  the 
assemblage  soon  become  the  most  violent,  and  the  most 
terrible  of  its  associates. 

It  was  at  this  period,  (1792,)  that  the  influence  of  Ro- 
bespierre first  began  to  display  its  baleful  supremacy  in 
the  French  capital.  He  was  excluded  from  the  new  legis- 
lative assembly,  by  a  decree  of  the  national  convention  to 
the  passage  of  which,  he  had  himself  contributed ;  which 
forbade  any  of  the  members  of  the  first  representative 
body  to  be  rechosen  as  members  of  the  second.  But  he 
was  now  the  most  distinguished  and  able  member  of  the 
Jacobin  club ;  and  it  was  through  the  proceedings  of  this 
club,  that  he  first  made  his  terrible  power  known  and  felt 
throughout  France. 

After  Mirabeau,  Robespierre  was  the  most  extraordina- 
ry man  produced  by  the  revolution.  It  has  long  been  the 
prevalent  fashion  to  represent  him  as  a  person  devoid  of 
all  talent,  and  as  a  mass  of  moral  deformities,  without  one 
single  redeeming  trait.  This  estimate  of  the  blood-stained 
Jacobin,  bad  as  he  really  was,  is  absurd  in  the  extreme. 
There  never  lived  in  any  age,  an  adventurer  who  gave 
more  unanswerable  proofs  of  the  possession  of  great  abili- 
ties. He  possessed  the  very  same  order  of  talent  for 
which  Demosthenes  himself  is  so  justly  celebrated : — that 
impetuous  and  powerful  eloquence  which  could  sway  the 
turbulent  passions  of  men ;  which  could  control  the  feel- 


HIS  RESEMBLANCE  TO  DEMOSTHENES.  127 

uigs  and  direct  the  resolutions  of  vast  assemblies ;  which 
could  arouse,  excite,  alarm,  and  convince  heterogeneous 
multitudes ;  which  could  govern  their  stormy  impulses, 
and  make  them  subservient  to  the  orator's  purposes.  Just 
as  D  emosthenes  aroused  the  assembled  Athenians  against 
the  aggressions  of  the  crafty  monarch  of  Macedon,  by  the 
clarion  tones  of  his  voice,  as  it  reverberated  around  the 
Jiema  at  Athens;  so  did  Robespierre  excite  the  Parisians 
who  listened  to  his  impassioned  words,  against  the  an- 
cient throne  of  the  Bourbons,  and  against  the  inoffensive 
king  who  sat  upon  it ;  whom,  with  words  as  burning  and 
as  scathing  as  any  which  ever  issued  from  the  lips  of 
Demosthenes,  he  denounced  and  stigmatized  as  a  tyrant 
even  worse  than  Philip  of  Macedon.  Both  of  these  ora- 
tors arose  to  power  from  utter  obscurity.  Both  of  them 
aimed  their  fury  against  already  existing  institutions. 
Both  operated  only  upon  the  popular  will,  and  used  the 
masses  as  the  obsequious  instruments  of  their  purposes. 
Both  passed  through  great  intellectual  conflicts.  Both 
employed  but  one  single  weapon — the  tongue.  Both  were 
successful  in  accomplishing  the  object  of  their  ambition. 
And  both  perished  at  last  by  a  violent  death.  Such  are 
the  singular  coincidences  between  the  lives  of  these  two 
remarkable  men.  The  only  difference  between  their  men- 
tal qualities  is  that,  while  Robespierre  was  the  more  un- 
bending, pertinacious,  and  penetrating  genius  of  the  two  ; 
Demosthenes  was  the  more  massive,  comprehensive,  and 
immense.  Robespierre  was  a  suitable  representative  of 
the  more  attenuated  intellectual  and  physical  proportions 
of  these  latter  ages.  Demosthenes  was  a  fit  model  of  the 
larger  intellectual  and  physical  dimensions  of  those  prime- 


128  EXTENT  OF  HIS  ABILITIES. 

val  times  when  giants  lived ;  when  the  race  possessed  its 
primitive  grandeur  and  greatness,  and  before  the  artificial 
luxuries  and  pernicious  usages  of  succeeding  generations 
had  reduced  the  proportions  of  the  race,  though  they 
may  have  conferred  more  refinement  and  more  cultiva- 
tion by  the  process. 

Robespierre  had  been  an  obscure  attorney  at  Arras,  the 
place  of  his  birth.  But  many  other  men  have  passed 
their  youths  in  obscurity,  from  the  want  of  circumstances 
favorable  to  the  development  of  greatness.  Such  was  the 
case  with  Robespierre.  His  first  efforts  at  eloquence  like 
those  of  the  great  man  with  whom  we  have  just  compared 
him,  were  total  failures.  His  delivery  was  awkward  and 
heavy.  But  by  dint  of  great  perseverance  and  great  reso- 
lution, he  succeeded  in  acquiring  such  a  mastery  in  this 
difficult  and  noble  art,  that  he  had  no  equal  nor  compet- 
itor even  among  the  many  talented  men  whom  France 
at  that  time  sent  up  to  her  national  representation.  If 
the  great  test  of  talent,  or  even  of  genius,  is  success  in 
whatever  men  undertake,  then  was  Robespierre  gifted  in- 
deed. His  ability  is  proved  by  the  fact  that,  whilst  he 
enjoyed  no  advantages  of  birth  or  influence ;  while  he 
possessed  even  no  external  gifts  of  nature  to  recommend 
him  to  admiration,  or  to  facilitate  his  progress  toward 
power,  he  overcame  every  obstacle,  and  every  deficiency ; 
and  by  the  pure  force  of  mind  and  of  thought  alone  ac- 
quired a  supremacy  and  wielded  a  scepter  as  absolute  al- 
most as  that  of  Napoleon  himself.  This  was  the  man, 
whose  obnoxious  name  and  influence  were  now  frequently 
brought  to  the  notice  of  Louis,  and  of  the  court ;  and  who 
soon  became  their  most  unyielding  and  implacable  enemy. 


THE  EMIGRANTS  AND  PRIESTS.  129 

The  first  question  which  engaged  the  attention  of  the 
new  assembly,  was  that  of  the  emigrants.  "  Monsieur," 
the  king's  brother,  had  already  left  the  kingdom.  The 
assembly  demanded  of  Louis  that  he  would  request  his 
return,  on  penalty  of  being  deprived  of  the  regency, 
should  any  event  occur  which  would  render  the  functions 
of  a  regent  necessary.  Louis  XVI.  addressed  his  brother 
a  letter,  requesting  him  earnestly  to  comply  with'  the  de- 
mands of  the  legislature.  That  body  also  proclaimed 
certain  penalties,  and  imposed  certain  disabilities,  upon 
all  other  French  citizens,  who  had  passed  beyond  the  terri- 
tory of  their  country,  and  who  then  refused  to  return. 

The  constituent  assembly  also  required  the  priesthood 
to  take  the  civic  oath.  Those  who  refused  to  comply  with 
this  demand  lost  their  character  as  ministers  of  public 
worship,  paid  by  the  state ;  though  they  retained  their 
professional  position,  and  the  liberty  of  exercising  their 
functions  in  private.  The  legislative  assembly  now  went 
a  step  further.  They  required  the  oath  to  be  taken 
anew,  and  deprived  those  priests  who  refused  so  to  do 
of  all  emoluments  whatever,  and  forbade  them  to  exer- 
cise their  professional  functions  even  in  private;  just  as  if 
an  assemblage  of  debauched  secular  adventurers,  could 
by  any  human  possibility,  deprive  men  of  a  spiritual  char- 
acter, derived  from  a  source  infinitely  higher  than  any 
human  origin,  or  dispossess  them  of  a  spiritual  function 
which  they  could  neither  give  nor  withdraw !  In  conse- 
quence of  the  hostile  feelings  which  had  long  existed  be- 
tween the  French  nation  and  Austria,  and  which  had  been 
hourly  increasing,  the  legislative  assembly  determined  to 

declare  war  against  that  country,  and  compelled  Louis 
* 


130  DECREES  OF  THE  ASSEMBLY. 

to  acquiesce  in  the  unwelcome  measure.  As  soon  as  the 
compliance  of  Louis  XVI.  with  this  proceeding  became 
known,  it  revived  for  a  short  time,  the  small  remains  of 
regard  for  the  persecuted  monarch  which  existed ;  and 
postponed  for  a  time  the  final  and  ignominious  scenes  of 
his  life.  The  assembly  next  compelled  Louis  to  another 
ungrateful  task.  That  was  the  dismissal  of  his  ministry. 

The  king's  brothers  who  had  emigrated,  and  to  whom 
he  made  known  the  decree  of  the  convention  requiring 
their  return,  refused  to  comply  with  the  demand.  The 
convention  then  decreed  them  to  be  under  accusation. 

The  assembly  next  required  Louis  XVI.  to  call  upon 
the  princes  of  the  Germanic  empire  not  to  allow  the  as- 
sembling of  emigrants  in  their  territories.  The  king  hav- 
ing performed  this  duty,  was  compelled  to  inform  the  as- 
sembly that  he  would  declare  war,  if  those  princes  disre- 
garded his  intentions  in  favoring  the  revolution.  The 
consequence  of  this  step  was,  that  Austria  and  Prussia  en- 
tered into  a  treaty  to  quell  the  disturbances,  as  they 
justly  called  the  revolutionary  movement,  in  France. 

The  assembly  continued  to  attend  to  its  supposed  du- 
ties, and  passed  various  decrees  of  more  or  less  general 
interest.  It  resolved  that  the  property  of  emigrants 
should  be  appropriated  to  pay  the  expenses  of  the  im- 
pending war.  It  decreed  the  suppression  of  all  religious 
communities.  It  resolved  on  the  suppression  of  all  ecclesi- 
astical costumes.  To  finish  this  series  of  outrages,  on 
May  29th,  1792,  the  national  assembly  constituted  itself 
in  permanent  session.  It  immediately  passed  a  decree 
ordaining  the  formation  of  a  camp  of  twenty  thousand 
troops  near  Paris,  for  the  purpose  of  increasing  their  own 


RISE  OF  DUMOURIEZ.  131 

absolute  control  over  the  capital,  and  overawing  the  court 
and  king. 

The  old  ministry  having  been  dismissed,  it  was  neces- 
sary to  constitute  a  new  one.  It  was  at  this  crisis  that  a 
celebrated  man  first  appeared  upon  a  theater  of  action, 
on  which  he  afterward  became  illustrious.  This  was 
Dumouriez. 

General  Dumouriez  in  the  command  which  he  had  al- 
ready held  in  La  Vendee,  had  displayed  extraordinary 
abilities.  Kept  down  as  it  were  by  the  times,  and  the  pe- 
culiar events  then  passing,  he  had  spent  most  of  his  life  in 
diplomatic  intrigues.  He  was  now  fifty  years  of  age. 
He  was  in  truth  ready  to  take  any  side  which  offered 
him  the  strongest  hopes  of  preferment.  His  character 
may  be  illustrated  by  this  incident :  He  exclaims  in  his 
memoirs,  "  Honor  to  the  patriots  who  took  the  Bastille," 
yet  a  few  pages  after  he  acknowledges,  that  being  at 
Caen  at  the  time  of  that  event,  he  had  composed  and 
presented  a  memorial  on  the  best  means  of  preserving  the 
Bastille,  and  suppressing  the  revolution.  A  sister  of  the 
famous  emigrant  Rivaral  was  his  acknowledged  mistress ; 
and  probably  he  was  in  heart  a  royalist.  Returning  to 
Paris  from  La  Vendee,  Dumouriez  discovered  that  the 
Jacobins  were  the  ruling  power  in  France.  He  attended 
the  clubs  and  took  part  in  the  proceedings.  But  he  still 
kept  up  his  intimacy  with  some  of  the  persons  around  Louis 
XVI.  By  their  means  it  was  that  Louis  was  induced  to 
offer  him  the  port-folio  of  foreign  affairs.  The  other 
places  in  the  cabinet  were  filled  by  Lacoste,  Duranthon, 
Roland,  and  Clavieres. 

This  ministry  began  their  functions,  by  prosecuting 


1 32  INSULTS  OFFERED  TO  THE  QUEEK 

vigorous  reforms.  The  king  was  charmed  at  the  prospect 
of  accomplishing  some  good  at  last  through  their  means. 
The  progress  of  republican  simplicity  was  noted  by  co- 
temporary  writers,  in  the  important  circumstance  that 
Roland,  one  of  the  ministers,  appeared  in  the  presence  of 
the  monarch  without  buckles  on  his  shoes ;  and  that  an- 
other functionary  (Chabot)  retained  his  hat ! 

By  this  time  the  royal  family  had  become  totally  alien- 
ated from  the  nation.  The  latter  displayed  feelings  of 
hostility,  which  indicated  that  the  day  for  reconciliation 
was  forever  past.  On  one  occasion  the  queen  approached 
the  window  of  her  chamber  which  opened  toward  the 
court,  to  take  a  little  air.  A  gunner  of  the  guard  ad- 
dressed her  with  words  of  vulgar  abuse.  Said  he  to  her, 
"  I  should  like  to  see  your  head  on  the  point  of  my  bay- 
onet." In  the  same  garden  just  beneath  the  eye  of  the  roy- 
al captives,  a  man  might  often  be  seen  mounted  on  a  chair, 
uttering  to  a  crowd  the  most  infamous  calumnies,  within 
the  hearing  of  the  king  and  his  family.  One  day  over- 
hearing these,  the  queen  burst  into  tears  and  exclaimed, 
"  What  an  abode !  What  a  people ! "  What  a  sad  con- 
trast was  presented  between  her  present  situation  of  mor- 
tification and  danger,  and  the  splendid  scenes  and  the 
brilliant  hopes  of  her  youth !  She  who  had  been  reared 
amid  the  magnificence  of  the  most  magnificent  of  courts ; 
who  inherited  the  chivalrous  reverence  and  admiration 
of  that  nation,  which  had  retained  beyond  all  other  nations 
the  respectful  feelings  which  characterized  the  middle 
ages,  in  reference  to  the  established  rights  and  the  unap- 
proachable superiority  of  kings ;  even  she  was  made  to 
tremble  at  the  horrid  curses  and  infamous  imprecations 


SANTERRE  AND  HIS  MOB.  133 

which  were  lavished  upon  her  by  a  nation  whose  guest 
she  had  become ;  to  whom  she  had  entrusted  her  dearest 
hopes,  and  those  of  her  children ;  and  whom  she  had 
never  injured  nor  wronged  in  the  smallest  possible  de- 
gree. Such  are  the  amazing  vicissitudes  of  human  life ; 
such  the  value  and  the  stability  of  popular  applause  and 
popular  censure  !  The  queen  wishing  to  feel  the  public 
pulse  at  this  time  went  to  the  opera.  '•'•There  goes  Madam 
Deficit,"  said  the  crowd,  as  her  carriage  passed  along ;  al- 
luding to  the  reported  deficiency  of  the  treasury  which 
they  absurdly  ascribed  to  her  extravagance  and  mis- 
management. 

On  June  20th,  1792,  the  unhappy  king  and  his  family 
were  compelled  to  witness  the  most  dangerous  and  formi- 
dable outbreak  of  popular  violence  which  they  had  yet 
seen.  The  Tuilleries  on  this  occasion  were  attacked  by  a 
mob  under  Santerre,  a  butcher  of  the  faubourg  St.  An- 
toine ;  and  the  safety  of  the  king  even  in  his  gilded  pris- 
on, was  seriously  endangered. 

The  multitude  had  assembled  first  around  the  hall  of 
the  representatives,  for  the  purpose  of  presenting  various 
petitions.  Having  accomplished  this  end  through  their 
leaders,  and  feeling  under  the  influence  of  an  excitement 
produced  by  the  interest  of  the  occasion,  they  conde- 
scended to  extend  their  journey  to  the  Tuilleries.  San- 
terre, with  a  drawn  sword,  marched  at  their  head.  Wo- 
men crowded  among  the  throng.  Flags  waved  with 
the  inscription,  "  The  Constitution  or  Death."  Ragged 
breeches  mounted  on  poles,  were  carried  along  as  the 
colors  of  this  motley  and  infamous  crowd.  Cries  were 
beard  of  Vivent  les  Sans-culottes !  On  the  point  of  a 


134  JACOBIN  PANTOMIMES. 

pike  was  borne  a  calf  s  heart,  with  the  inscription,  "Heart 
of  an  aristocrat."  Such  were  the  scenes  of  infamy  with 
which  the  glorious  era  and  triumphs  of  Liberty  were 
about  to  be  introduced  into  France ! 

When  the  crowd  arrived  at  the  gates  of  the  Tuilleries, 
they  found  them  closed,  and  protected  by  numerous  de- 
tachments of  the  National  Guards.  The  king  with  his 
usual  sincerity  and  want  of  suspicion,  ordered  the  gates 
to  be  opened.  The  rabble  not  appreciating  the  feelings 
and  motives  of  the  king,  rushed  in  as  if  that  privilege 
had  been  granted  them  from  fear  of  their  numbers  and 
power ;  and  they  made  the  palace  resound  with  shouts  of 
•'Down  with  the  Veto."  "The  Sans-culottes  forever." 
During  this  disturbance,  the  king  was  accompanied  with 
the  aged  Marshal  Aclogue,  some  of  his  household  ser- 
vants, and  several  officers  of  the  national  guard.  At 
that  moment  the  sound  of  axes  was  heard,  assulting  the 
doors  of  the  private  apartments  of  the  king.  Louis  or- 
dered the  doors  to  be  opened.  The  crowd  rushed  in. 
"  Here  I  am,"  said  he,  to  the  enraged  rabble.  Amid  the 
endless  confusion  which  prevailed,  constant  shouts  were 
heard  of  "No  Veto;"  "No  Priests;"  "No  Aristo- 
crats ! "  "  Vive  la  Nation  !  "  cried  they.  "  Yes,"  an- 
swered Louis  XVI.,  "  Vive  la  Nation  y  I  am  its  best 
friend."  "  Well  prove  it  then,"  said  one  of  the  despica- 
ble wretches  who  led  on  the  rabble ;  at  the  same  time 
holding  before  him  a  red  cap  on  the  point  of  a  pike.  The 
king  took  the  infamous  emblem  and  put  it  on  his  head. 
The  crowd  then  "  uttered  a  deal  of  stinking  breath"  ap- 
probatively,  and  rent  the  air  with  their  acclamations. 
One  of  the  rabble  who  was  drunk,  offered  the  king  a 


THE  RABBLE  IN  THE  PALACE.        135 

dram  from  a  filthy  bottle,  which  he  held  in  his  hand. 
The  king  drank  without  hesitation  the  offered  beverage. 
The  queen  was  then  in  another  of  the  royal  apartments. 
The  intruders  penetrated  even  there.  As  soon  as  she  was 
seen,  they  exclaimed  "There  is  the  Austrian."  Her 
daughter  was  terrified  by  the  furious  aspect  of  the  crowd, 
and  wept.  Her  little  son,  the  dauphin,  dismayed  at  first, 
recovered  his  wonted  cheerfulness,  and  smiled  in  the  happy 
innocence  and  confidence  of  his  age.  A  red  cap  was 
handed  to  him ;  the  child  immediately  put  it  upon  his 
head.  Santerre  who  still  led  on  the  rabble,  seeing  the 
boy  almost  smothered  by  the  folds  of  the  cap,  relieved 
him  of  the  hated  incumbrance.  It  was  at  this  crisis  that 
Louis  XVI.  did  an  act  which  has  secured  for  him  the  re- 
spect and  commiseration  of  a  discriminating  posterity. 
Surrounded  as  he  was  at  that  moment  by  the  most  des- 
picable and  dangerous  of  all  perils — that  of  an  infuriated 
and  brutalized  rabble,  seeking  for  carnage  and  plunder — 
he  took  the  hand  of  a  grenadier  who  was  standing  near 
him,  placed  it  upon  his  heart,  and  said,  "  Feel  whether  it 
beats  quicker  than  usual."  At  seven  in  the  evening,  the 
rabble  retired  from  the  palace,  without  having  accom- 
plished the  extremes  of  violence  and  outrage  which  they 
had  expected.  Immediately  after  their  departure,  the 
long  threw  from  him  with  indignation,  the  red  cap 
which  still  adorned  or  disgraced  his  head.  The  pal- 
ace had  been  defaced  and  abused  by  the  populace  in  the 
most  outrageous  manner.  During  their  presence  there, 
they  had  presented  a  remonstrance  to  the  king  setting 
forth  the  abuses  which  they  asserted  he  had  tolerated  and 
permittee1  in  his  government. 


136  EFFECTS  OF  THE  MOVEMENT. 

The  next  day  some  complaints  were  made  in  the  Assem- 
bly in  reference  to  the  manner  in  which  the  king  and  the 
royal  family  had  been  outraged.  One  member  proposed 
to  commence  proceedings  against  those  who  had  created 
the  disturbance.  This  motion  was  ridiculed  by  another 
member,  who  answered,  "  Impossible !  what  proceedings 
can  be  taken  against  forty  thousand  men  ?  "  Of  such  an 
immense  number  had  the  crowd  consisted ! 

It  was  by  such  gradual  approaches  that  all  confidence 
and  respect  between  the  injured  king  and  his  people,  were 
totally  destroyed.  They  learned  to  regard  each  other 
with  aversion  and  hatred.  Only  one  or  two  more  similar 
displays  of  popular  fury  were  necessary,  in  order  to  place 
things  beyond  the  reach  of  remedy ;  to  render  the  exist- 
ing breach  incurable ;  to  deprive  the  royal  family  of  the 
trifling  share  of  liberty  which  they  still  enjoyed  ;  and  to 
conduct  them  to  their  last  and  final  imprisonment — the 
sad  prelude  to  the  melancholy  climax  of  their  fate.  And 
these  essential  and  hateful  preliminaries  were  not  very 
long  in  occurring,  under  the  influence  and  guidance  ol 
Robespierre  and  his  blood-thirsty  associates. 


CHAPTER  V. 

LOTJIS  XVI.  AT  THE  BAK  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CONVESTTION. 

ON  the  14th  of  July,  1792,  another  great  popular  dem- 
onstration was  to  be  made,  the  king  and  court  were  once 
more  to  be  outraged,  and  reason  insulted.  It  was  the 
anniversary  of  the  Federation.  All  the  splendor  and  dig- 
nity which  characterized  the  first  commemoration  of  this 
occasion,  which  has  been  described  in  a  previous  chapter, 
had  passed  away.  A  mortifying  and  disgraceful  contrast 
now  appeared.  Instead  of  the  magnificent  altar,  the 
three  hundred  officiating  priests,  the  sixty  thousand  Na- 
tional Guards  in  their  uniforms,  the  members  of  the  as- 
sembly, the  king,  and  the  court,  all  proceeding  with  deco- 
rum and  dignity  as  they  then  had  done ;  the  observer 
now  beheld  a  truncated  column  on  the  Champ  de  Mars,  in- 
stead of  the  altar,  rising  from  the  center  of  a  vast  pile, 
which  bore  on  its  branches  the  keys  of  St.  Peter,  doctor's 
caps,  bags  full  of  law  proceedings,  cardinal's  hats,  tiaras, 
titles  of  nobility,  and  coats  of  arms ;  ah1  of  which  were  to 
be  burned  up.  The  procession  consisted  of  a  confused 
mob  of  drunken  vagabonds,  women,  children,  and  wag- 
ons ;  on  one  of  which  was  carried  a  daubed  representa- 
tion of  the  taking  of  the  Bastille,  and  on  another,  a  print- 
ing press,  which  halted  at  intervals,  and  struck  off  patri- 
otic songs,  to  be  distributed  to  the  enthusiastic  multitude 
around.  After  these  came  the  assembly,  the  court,  and 
the  royal  family,  showing  the  shame  they  felt  in  their  down- 


138  PROPOSAL  FOR  THE  KING'S  ESCAPE. 

cast  countenances.  They  could  not  conceal  the  mortifica- 
tion which  they  experienced,  that  France,  once  the  proud 
land  of  chivalry,  refinement,  and  elegance,  had  become  so 
disgraced,  so  dishonored,  as  to  be  the  theater  of  such  a 
scene.  The  oath  of  Federation  was  taken  by  everybody. 
When  that  important  ceremony  had  been  concluded,  the 
assembly  broke  up ;  and  after  considerable  anxiety  and 
danger,  the  king  and  his  family  succeeded  in  regaining  the 
palace  without  further  outrage  or  accident. 

It  was  at  this  period  that  the  project  was  once  more 
entertained  of  saving  Louis  XVI.  by  flight ;  and  that 
project  was  now  conceived  by  the  very  man  who  was 
so  eflicacious  in  defeating  the  first  attempt — by  Lafayette. 
He  dictated  to  M.  Tollendal  a  letter  to  the  king,  dated 
Paris,  July  9,  1792,  in  which  the  details  of  the  proposed 
plan  of  escape  were  minutely  set  forth. 

As  might  have  been  expected,  Louis  XVI.  doubted 
either  the  sincerity,  or  the  discretion  of  the  man,  whose 
officious  interference  had  prevented  his  previous  success, 
and  he  declined  accepting  the  offer  made  him.  The  king, 
moreover,  answered  the  proposal  hi  such  terms  of  severity 
and  reproof,  as  were  richly  merited  by  the  vacillating 
and  self-seeking  course  pursued  by  the  adventurer  who 
proposed  it.  Said  he,  "  The  best  advice  which  can  be 
given  to  M.  de  Lafayette,  is  to  continue  to  serve  as  a  bug- 
bear to  the  factions,  by  the  performance  of  his  duty  as  a 
general." 

The  project  of  the  king's  flight,  however,  was  not  yet 
given  up.  A  retreat  to  the  castle  of  Gaillon,  in  Nor- 
mandy, was  resolved  upon.  The  duke  of  Liancourt,  an 
ardent  friend  of  the  king,  then  commanded  that  province. 


THE  KING  DECLINES  IT.  139 

Its  capital,  Rouen,  had  declared  its  opposition  to  the  pro- 
gress of  the  revolution.  The  duke  generously  offered  his 
army,  and  even  his  fortune,  to  the  service  of  the  king.  The 
castle  of  Gaillon  was  but  a  hundred  miles  from  the  sea, 
and  would  afford  an  easy  flight  to  Louis  through  Nor- 
mandy to  England.  It  was  also  only  twenty  leagues 
from  Paris.  But  this  apparently  judicious  plan  of  escape 
was  rejected ;  especially  because  it  would  place  the  king 
under  obligations  to  Lafayette,  to  whom  the  person  of  the 
king  must  be  confided  during  the  journey.  Doubtless, 
had  Louis  entertained  any  just  idea  of  the  greatness  and 
the  proximity  of  the  danger  which  hung  over  him,  he 
would  not  have  refused  this  or  any  other  reasonable  ref- 
uge which  might  have  been  proposed.  But  he  never  im- 
agined the  real  extent  to  which  the  frenzy  and  the  infatu- 
ation of  the  nation  had  proceeded. 

The  10th  of  August,  1792,  approached;  a  day  of 
memorable  gloom,  despair,  and  woe  to  the  unhappy  and 
persecuted  family  of  the  king.  The  whole  history  of 
Louis  XVI.  almost  from  the  inauspicious  hour  of  his  cor- 
onation, until  that  of  his  death,  was  one  sad  procession 
and  tissue  of  calamities.  No  other  monarch  of  all  the 
thousands  who,  in  various  climes  and  ages  have  inherited 
the  dignities  and  the  responsibilities  of  a  throne,  excepting 
perhaps  Charles  I.  of  England  and  Mary  Queen  of  Scots, 
presents  so  singular  and  sad  a  spectacle.  Hundreds  of 
monarchs  have  fallen  on  the  battle-field ;  and  many  by  the 
sudden  or  secret  hand  of  the  assassin.  None  except  the 
two  whom  we  have  named,  endured  so  long,  so-unvarying, 
and  so  disastrous  a  series  of  calamities  ;  tending  so  inev- 
itably from  bad  to  worse,  to  terminate  in  total  ruin. 


140  GATHERING  OF  THE  STORM. 

A  day  had  been  fixed  for  the  discussing  of  the  dethrone- 
ment of  the  king.  An  extraordinary  agitation  prevailed 
among  the  deputies.  In  the  assembly  it  was  doubted 
whether  the  dethronement  which  both  people  and  repre- 
sentatives had  determined  should  take  place,  ought  to  be 
brought  about  by  a  deliberation  and  decree,  or  by  a  pub- 
lic and  murderous  attack.  Petion,  together  with  tKe 
whole  party  of  the  Girondists,  preferred  the  former 
mode.  He  thought  that  a  decree  proclaiming  the  depo- 
sition of  the  king,  would  put  a  stop  to  all  further  agita- 
tion and  violence.  Perhaps  his  judgment  was  correct. 
The  party  of  the  Jacobins,  however,  refused  to  acquiesce 
in  this  plan.  They  declared  that  the  people  had  resolved 
to  take  their  liberty  and  its  defense  into  their  own  hands. 
Chabot  proposed  that  the  tocsin  should  be  tolled  that 
very  evening,  and  that  the  last  decisive  acts  of  the  revo- 
lution should  now  begin. 

A  general  agitation  pervaded  Paris.  The  drums  sound- 
ed in  every  direction.  The  battalions  of  the  national 
guards  repaired  to  their  quarters,  in  ignorance  of  the  real 
cause  of  the  universal  alarm.  The  sections  were  filled 
with  the  most  violent  and  noisy  of  the  citizens.  The  in- 
surrectional committees  had  formed  at  various  points — in 
the  faubourg  St.  Antoine,  in  the  faubourg  St.  Marceau, 
at  the  hall  of  the  Cordeliers,  Danton's  clarion  voice  was 
heard  calling  the  people  to  arms.  Said  he,  "  The  people 
can  now  have  recourse  but  to  themselves.  Lose  no  time. 
This  very  night,  satellites  concealed  in  the  palace  are  to 
rush  forth  upon  the  people  and  to  slaughter  them !  Save 
yourselves,  then  !  To  arms  1  to  arms !  " 

This  cry  "  To  arms ! "  soon  became  general,  and  re- 


THE  MARSELLAIS.  141 

sounded  throughout  the  streets  and  palaces  of  the  vast 
capital.  From  the  center  to  the  circumference  of  the 
city,  one  wide  and  universal  yell  swelled  up  toward  heav 
en,  and  made  night  hideous  with  its  terrible  confusion. 
The  Marsellais  seized  some  pieces  of  cannon  which  had 
been  placed  before  the  Jacobin  club ;  and  their  procession 
was  joined  by  an  immense  crowd.  They  determined  first 
to  send  commissioners  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  to  turn  out 
the  municipal  officers,  and  take  all  authority  in  their  own 
hands.  The  tocsin  was  now  ringing  incessantly,  and  its 
solemn,  startling  sound  reverberated  over  the  whole  capi- 
tal. It  was  wafted  afar  on  the  wings  of  the  midnight 
winds  to  the  surrounding  suburbs.  It  proclaimed  the 
memorable  hour,  when  the  oldest  monarchy  in  Europe 
was  about  to  fall.  That  night  of  agitation,  terror,  and 
blood,  was  to  be  the  last  which  the  heir  of  so  many  kings 
was  destined  to  pass  in  the  palace  of  his  ancestors. 

The  king,  the  queen,  their  two  children,  and  Madam 
Elizabeth,  the  king's  sister,  had  not  retired  to  bed ;  but- 
had  gone  into  the  council  chamber,  where  the  ministers 
and  many  superior  officers  were  deliberating  in  terror, 
what  steps  had  best  be  taken  to  save  the  royal  family. 
The  Swiss  guards  were  the  only  troops  which  yet  re- 
remained  faithful  to  Louis.  But  their  artillery  had 
been  taken  from  them ;  and  though  they  were  honorable 
and  intrepid  men,  their  numbers  were  too  small  to  be 
able  to  afford  any  assistance  against  the  migHy  masses 
of  that  stupendous  popular  flood,  whose  surges  were  ev- 
ery moment  approaching  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  palace. 
These  troops  were  eight  hundred  in  number.  They  were 
commanded  by  by  Generel  Mandat.  The  incessant  clang 


142     THE  MOB  APPROACHES  THE  PALACE. 

of  the  tocsin,  the  booming  of  artillery,  the  rattling  of 
ammunition  wagons  along  the  streets,  the  yells  of  the 
populace,  the  march  of  the  approaching  column,  and  the 
rolling  of  their  drums,  were  becoming  more  and  more 
distinct  to  the  terrified  ears  of  the  unhappy  family, 
against  whose  innocent  heads  the  insensate  rage  of  those 
besotted  multitudes  was  so  strangely  and  so  cruelly 
directed. 

General  Mandat  had  made  the  best  dispositions  which 
were  possible  for  the  defense  of  the  palace.  In  addition 
to  these  eight  hundred  Swiss,  there  were  in  the  edifice  a 
great  number  of  old  servants  of  the  royal  family,  who, 
arming  themselves  with  swords  and  pistols,  and  whatever 
other  weapons  they  could  obtain,  resolved  to  die  in  de- 
fense of  the  family  with  whose  fortunes  they  so  honora- 
bly identified  themselves.  Well  did  they  acquit  them- 
selves of  this  last  sad  duty  to  their  benefactors,  which 
devolved  upon  them. 

It  is  probable  that  a  vigorous  defense  made  at  this  mo- 
ment, and  especially  a  determined  attack  upon  the  rab- 
ble, might  still  have  saved  the  royal  family.  But  Louis 
XVI.  though  a  virtuous,  was  not  an  able  prince.  He  was 
devoid  of  the  energy  and  the  resolution  necessary  for 
such  a  fearful  crisis ;  and  it  was  his  misfortune,  and  not 
his  crime,  that  he  did  not  on  this  occasion,  exercise  facul- 
ties which  nature  had  not  bestowed  upon  him,  and  which 
he  therefore  did  not  possess. 

It  was  now  five  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  multitude 
overcoming  every  resistance,  had  reached  and  surround- 
ed the  palace.  The  dawn  of  day  exhibited  to  the 
terrified  king  and  his  family,  on  ah1  sides,  a  vast  sea  of 


RESOLUTION  OF  THE  QUEEN.  143 

angry  heads,  and  every  demonstration  of  popular  fury. 
Their  artillery  was  pointed  toward  the  palace.  Their 
confused  shouts  and  bacchanalian  songs  were  heard 
within  its  gilded  halls.  The  commandant,  Mandat,  had 
been  shot  by  the  insurgents,  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville, 
whither  he  had  gone  with  a  message  from  the  king.  The 
monarch  immediately  sent  an  order,  marked  by  his  usual 
though  mistaken  clemency,  commanding  his  Swiss  guards 
not  to  fire  upon  the  mob,  and  only  to  act  upon  the  de- 
fensive. His  friends  now  urged  him  to  put  himself  at  the 
head  of  his  troops,  and  commence  a  desperate  resistance. 
It  is  even  said  that  Maria  Antoinette  declared  to  him : 
"  Sire,  it  is  time  to  show  youself,"  and  snatching  a  pistol 
from  the  belt  of  General  d'Affry,  she  presented  it  with  a 
lofty  and  dignified  gesture  to  the  king,  and  reproved  him 
for  his  pusillanimity.  She  had  just  dried  the  bitter  tears 
which  her  misfortunes  had  wrung  from  her  crushed  spirit. 
But  Louis  XVI.  was  not  a  hero ;  he  was  only  a  martyr  / 
and  was  incapable  of  an  act  of  so  much  boldness  and 
resolution. 

By  the  advice  of  his  counselors  Louis  determined  to 
show  himself  once  more  to  the  multitude.  He  wore  a 
purple  suit  of  clothes,  and  his  hair,  which  had  not  been 
dressed  for  some  hours,  was  in  disorder.  On  stepping 
out  on  the  balcony  his  presence  excited  some  enthusiasm. 
He  now  beheld  before  him  many  pieces  of  artillery  direct- 
ed against  the  palace.  The  caps  of  his  grenadiers  were 
at  once  lifted,  in  respect  to  the  royal  presence,  and  placed 
upon  the  points  of  their  bayonets.  For  the  last  time,  the 
ancient  cry  of  "  Vive  le  Hoi  ! "  so  long  associated  with 
the  glories,  the  splendors,  and  the  calamities  of  the  French 


144  LOUIS  REVIEWS  HIS  GUARDS. 

monarchy,  resounded  around  the  halls  of  the  palace  of 
the  Capets.  From  the  balcony  the  king  descended  to  the 
courts  to  review  his  troops.  He  was  received  there  with 
enthusiasm.  The  attachment  of  this  small  body  of  men 
to  the  falling  fortunes  of  the  king,  commends  them  to  the 
respect  of  all  ages ;  for  they  proved  faithful  to  a  man 
whom  they  knew  to  be  unfortunate,  and  not  guilty,  and 
had  strength  of  mind  enough  to  resist  the  delirium  which 
swept  away  the  sanity  of  so  many  thousands  of  mankind. 
But  disaffection  had  spread  among  the  gunners,  who 
manned  the  few  pieces  of  artillery  which  defended  the 
palace ;  and  among  some  of  the  battalions  of  the  national 
guards.  As  the  king  passed  along  these  in  his  route  back 
to  the  palace,  some  of  the  gunners,  quitting  their  posts, 
ran  up  to  the  king,  thrust  their  blackened  fists  into  his 
face,  and  insulted  him  by  the  most  brutal  language.  Louis 
was  as  pale  as  a  corpse ;  and  he  was  convinced,  by  the 
signs  of  disaffection  which  were  displayed  by  his  own 
troops — always  excepting  the  heroic  and  incorruptible 
Swiss — that  all  was  lost. 

It  was  at  the  moment  of  the  king's  return  from  this  in- 
spection, that  he  was  advised  to  take  a  step  which  proved 
to  be  decisive  of  his  future  fate.  He  was  induced  to  take 
refuge,  as  he  thought,  from  the  impending  danger  in  the 
bosom  of  the  national  assembly.  This  act  sealed  his  des- 
tiny ;  though  at  that  moment  of  confusion  and  terror,  it 
was  apparently  the  best  measure  which  the  king  could 
adopt.  By  it  ah1  bloodshed  seemed  likely  to  be  pre- 
vented, and  the  lives  of  the  royal  family  would  be  pre- 
served ;  for  had  the  palace  been  taken  by  storm  they  would 
Have  inevitably  been  massacred  on  the  spot.  But  in  the 


LOUIS  REPAIRS  TO  THE  ASSEMBLY.  145 

end  the  step  proved  ruinous  to  the  king's  cause.  From 
the  assembly  he  passed  to  his  prison.  From  his  prison  he 
journeyed  to  the  scaffold ! 

The  queen  violently  opposed  this  step.  Roederer  urged 
her  to  remember,  that  by  so  doing  she  endangered  the 
lives  of  her  husband  and  her  children.  At  length  the 
king  said  with  a  resigned  tone  to  his  friends  and  family, 
"  Let  us  go."  "  Sir,"  said  the  queen  to  Roederer,  "  you 
will  answer  for  the  li ves  of  the  king,  and  of  my  children." 
Roederer  replied,  "  Madam,  I  promise  that  I  will  die  by 
their  side ;  I  can  do  nothing  more."  They  set  out  for  the 
assembly  by  the  garden,  the  terrace  of  the  Feuillans,  and 
the  courts  of  the  riding  school.  A  detachment  of  the 
Swiss  accompanied  and  protected  the  royal  family.  A 
deputation  from  the  assembly  met  them,  and  with  some 
small  show  of  com-tesy  conducted  them  to  the  hall.  The 
crowd  was  immense,  and  a  passage  was  made  for  them 
by  the  efforts  of  the  grenadiers.  The  royal  family  then 
entered,  followed  by  the  two  ministers.  Said  Louis  XVI., 
"  Gentlemen,  I  come  to  prevent  a  great  crime  ;  I  think  I 
can  be  no  where  safer  than  hi  the  midst  of  you."  Verg- 
niaud,  the  president,  replied  that  he  might  rely  on  the 
firmness  of  the  national  assembly,  and  that  they  would 
protect  the  constituted  authorities.  Louis  seated  himself 
by  the  president.  Chabot  suggested  that  the  presence  of 
the  king  might  influence  the  freedom  of  public  discussion ! 
To  avoid  this  result,  the  king  and  his  family  were  removed 
into  the  box  of  the  reporters  of  the  assembly — the  loge 
de  rapporteur;  which  box  was  thus  rendered  illustrious 
by  the  fact,  that  it  was  the  first  and  the  last  instance,  in 

the  history  of  the  world,  in  which  the  humble  seat  of  a 
G  10 


140  HIS  RECEPTION  THERE. 

reporter  was  honored  as  the  refuge  of  an  illustrious  king. 
Even  there,  Louis  was  not  free  from  insult.  A  ragged 
workman  of  the  suburbs  made  his  way  to  the  iron  railing 
which  protected  the  fugitives,  and  said  aloud  to  the  king, 
"  You  are  there,  are  you,  Beast  of  a  veto !  There  is  a 
purse  of  gold  I  found  in  your  palace  yonder ;  if  you  had 
found  mine,  you  would  not  have  been  so  honest !  " 

Roederer  preceded  to  inform  the  assembly  of  the  hor- 
rid scenes  which  had  occurred.  The  assembly  ordered 
twenty  members  to  proceed  to  the  crowd,  and  pacify 
them.  At  that  moment  the  report  of  cannon  was  heard, 
mingled  with  the  sound  of  musketry.  It  was  a  bloody 
conflict  which  had  begun  at  the  palace  between  the  Swiss 
guards  and  the  multitudinous  rabble.  The  latter  were 
probably  ignorant  of  the  departure  of  the  king.  They 
said  to  the  troops,  "  Give  up  the  palace  to  us,  and  we  are 
friends."  The  duty  of  the  Swiss  forbade  them  to  comply 
with  this  demand.  The  firing  then  commenced.  The 
troops  discharged  a  cannon  among  the  Marseillais  rabble, 
and  made  great  slaughter.  Terror  seized  the  defenders 
of  liberty  on  all  sides,  and  they  fled  in  great  confusion. 
If  the  Swiss  had  followed  up  their  advantage  at  this  mo- 
ment, all  might  perhaps  have  been  redeemed.  But  at 
this  juncture  the  long's  order  arrived,  forbidding  the 
Swiss  to  fire,  and  commanding  them  to  follow  him  to  the 
assembly.  A  large  portion  of  them  obeyed,  leaving  the 
palace  without  its  defenders. 

The  enraged  and  wounded  rabble  now  rallied.  They 
were  led  by  Westerman  and  Danton.  They  poured  on  in 
immense  numbers,  attacking  the  few  troops  who  remained, 
slaying  the  most  of  them ;  and  at  length,  after  suffering 


THE  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  PALACE.  147 

BO  me  loss,  obtained  absolute  possession  of  the  ancient 
home  of  their  kings.  From  this  moment  the  attack  was 
turned  into  a  promiscuous  massacre.  The  Swiss  threw 
down  their  arms.  They  begged  for  quarter — a  privilege 
granted  by  the  most  barbarous  of  combatants.  They 
were  butchered  without  mercy.  The  old  servants  of  the 
king  who  fled,  were  pursued  into  the  gardens  and  there 
murdered.  Some  of  these  climbed  up  the  splendid  monu- 
ments for  refuge,  with  which  the  taste  and  the  munifi- 
cence of  many  kings  had  adorned  the  spot.  They  were 
mercilessly  picked  off  by  the  sharp  shooters  of  the  rabble, 
and  fell  dead  to  the  earth.  The  massacre  was  carried 
throughout  every  apartment  and  recess  of  the  palace. 
Streams  of  blood  were  seen  to  flow  from  the  roofs  to  the 
cellars  of  that  once  splendid  edifice.  Disgraceful  and  in- 
decent mutilations  were  perpetrated  publicly  on  the 
bodies  of  the  dead,  such  as  would  only  be  agreeable  to  a 
Parisian  revolutionary  populace.  Most  prominent  among 
the  perpetrators  of  this  outrage  were  women,  who  for- 
getting the  natural  attributes  and  decency  of  their  sex, 
displayed  the  brutality  of  infuriated  beasts.  Seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty  Swiss  perished  on  that  horrid  day.  The 
palace  was  ransacked.  The  work  of  slaughter  finished, 
next  followed  that  of  devastation  and  demolition.  The 
elegant  furniture  was  dashed  hi  pieces,  and  its  fragments 
scattered  far  and  wide.  The  rabble  penetrated  into  the 
private  apartments  of  the  queen,  which  they  disgraced 
with  their  obscenities.  They  ransacked  every  recess ; 
they  broke  open  every  lock;  they  examined  every  de- 
pository of  private  papers.  The  cellars  were  plundered. 
All  tne  works  of  art,  with  which  the  palace  of  the  most 


148  DECREE  OF  DETHRONEMENT  PASSED. 

refined  monarchs  of  Europe  had  for  generations  been 
adorned,  were  destroyed.  The  butchery  and  devastation 
did  not  cease  for  some  hours.  Rapine,  drunkenness,  and 
bloodshed  increased  the  revel  and  the  carnage.  When 
the  crowds  retired  they  had  expended  their  rage.  There 
was  nothing  left  upon  which  to  wreak  it ;  for  they  had 
made  a  wreck  of  everything. 

Meanwhile  the  assembly  proceeded  with  its  discussions, 
and  awaited  the  issue  of  the  combat  at  the  palace.  The 
royal  family  were  imprisoned  for  fifteen  hours,  hi  the  re- 
porter's box,  from  which  spot  they  distinctly  heard  the 
violent  and  abusive  discussions  of  the  deputies.  From 
that  spot  Louis  XVI.  beheld  the  utter  ruin  of  his  hopes, 
the  destruction  of  his  authority,  the  crumbling  of  his 
scepter.  The  assembly  then  passed  the  celebrated  decree 
of  dethronement.  By  its  orders  Louis  XVI.  was  sus- 
pended from  the  royal  authority ;  a  plan  of  education  was 
appointed  for  the  dauphin  ;  and  a  national  convention  was 
convoked.  During  the  passage  of  these  infamous  de- 
crees, the  sister  and  the  wife  of  the  ruined  monarch  were 
bathed  in  tears.  Their  situation,  even  in  their  humble 
refuge,  was  most  unpleasant.  The  heat  was  intensely  op- 
pressive. The  only  refreshment  of  which  the  king  par- 
took, during  all  this  time,  was  a  peach  and  a  glass  of  wa- 
ter. He  sat  with  his  hat  off,  intently  watching  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  assembly,  who  assumed  the  prerogative 
of  deciding  his  fate.  From  the  hall  of  the  assembly,  when 
that  body  adjourned,  the  royal  family  were  conveyed  to 
the  building  of  the  Feuillans.  There  they  remained  for 
three  days,  occupying  a  suite  of  apartments,  consisting  of 
lour  very  small  rooms.  In  the  first  were  several  gentlemen 


THE  COURT  ABOLISHED.  149 

who  accompanied  the  king.  In  the  second  was  the  king 
himself.  The  third  was  occupied  by  the  queen,  who  had 
none  of  her  own  servants  about  her.  The  fourth  was  ap- 
propriated to  the  royal  children,  and  their  aunt,  Madame 
Elizabeth. 

The  proceedings  of  the  French  people  and  their  repre- 
sentatives on  this  memorable  occasion,  serve  as  a  power- 
ful illustration  of  the  character  of  perverted  popular  rule, 
in  all  ages  and  in  every  clime.  The  ignorant  multitude, 
misled  as  they  inevitably  will  be,  in  most  cases  where 
they  possess  absolute  political  power,  by  designing  and 
unprincipled  leaders,  will  ever  become  their  tools  for  the 
perpetration  of  outrage  and  despotism.  The  crimes  of 
kings  and  princes  have  indeed  been  innumerable.  But 
we  question  very  much  whether,  if  the  sovereign  power 
had  been,  during  the  past  history  of  the  world,  intrusted 
to  the  populace  as  often  as  it  has  been  to  princes,  the 
crimes  and  outrages  of  the  former  had  not  been  equal 
in  number  to  those  committed  by  the  latter.  They  all 
alike  partake  of  the  common  infirmities  and  weaknesses 
of  humanity. 

After  decreeing  the  dethronement  of  the  king,  the  as- 
sembly proceeded  to  remove  all  the  high  functionaries  of 
the  state  as  being  closely  connected  with  the  king.  San- 
terre,  the  butcher,  was  invested  with  the  command  of  the 
national  guards.  They  suppressed  the  municipal  gen- 
eral council,  and  substituted  Petion  in  their  place  and 
authority,  under  the  title  of  Procureur  Syndic.  The 
great  seal  of  state  was  taken  possession  of  by  the  new 
minister  of  justice.  This  important  office  was  conferred 
by  the  assembly  on  Danton,  an  immortal  name  in  the  an- 


150  THE  NEW  GOVERNMENT. 

nals  of  popular  outrage  and  revolution.  Lebrun,  a  pru- 
dent, thoughtful,  stupid  man,  was  made  minister  of  foreign 
affairs.  Monge  was  equally  surprised  with  the  appoint- 
ment of  minister  of  the  marine. 

The  assembly  next  resolved,  that  all  those  decrees  to 
which  Louis  XVI.  had  thought  it  his  duty  to  affix  his 
veto,  should  now  receive  the  authority  of  law.  By  vari- 
ous acts  the  legislature  assumed  and  exercised  all  the 
functions  of  government.  Several  months  thus  passed 
away,  during  which  the  popular  attention,  and  the  legis- 
lative vigilance,  were  directed  toward  the  memorable 
massacres  which  took  place  in  the  prisons  of  Paris,  in  the 
Abbaye,  the  Conciergerie,  la  Force,  the  Bicetre,  La 
Salpetriee,  and  the  Chatelet.  In  each  of  these  prisons 
horrid  scenes  of  bloodshed  were  perpetrated  on  the  cap- 
tives of  the  10th  of  August.  The  attention  of  the  nation 
was  also  diverted  from  the  royal  family  for  a  time,  by  the 
vicissitudes  and  fortunes  of  the  war  which  was  carried  on 
by  the  nation  against  their  enemies  in  Belgium  and  Savoy, 
under  the  command  of  Dumouriez  and  Kellerman.  Du- 
ring the  same  interval  the  formal  abolition  of  royalty,  and 
the  public  proclamation  of  the  republic,  took  place. 

But  by  a  strange  infatuation,  the  thoughts  of  the  na- 
tion soon  reverted  to  the  condition  and  the  destiny  of 
their  royal  and  noble  captives.  From  the  1st  of  October, 
1791,  to  the  20th  of  September,  1792,  the  legislative  as- 
sembly had  passed  two  thousand  one  hundred  and  fifty 
decrees,  relating  to  the  administration  of  the  kingdom. 
It  does  not  comport  with  our  purpose  to  enter  into  the 
consideration  of  any  of  these.  They  belong  to  the  his- 
tory of  the  revolution.  We  will  confine  ourselves  strictly 


THE  ROYAL  FAMILY  IN  THE  TEMPLE.  15] 

now  to  the  events  which  appertain  to  Louis  XVI.  and 
his  unfortunate  family. 

These  unhappy  victims  of  popular  frenzy  had  been  trans- 
ferred to  the  prison  known  as  THE  TEMPLE.  They  were 
confined  in  the  small  tower,  without  any  interior  com- 
munication with  the  rest  of  the  edifice.  The  body  of 
jhis  building  was  four  stories  high.  The  first  story  con- 
sisted of  an  ante-chamber,  a  dining-room,  and  another 
room  in  which  was  contained  a  library  of  fifteen  hundred 
volumes.  The  second  story  was  divided  in  nearly  the 
same  way.  The  bed-chamber  of  the  queen  and  the  prin- 
ces was  in  the  second  story.  The  apartments  of  the 
king  were  in  the  third  story.  He  slept  in  the  large  room 
and  made  a  study  of  the  turret  closet.  The  fourth  story 
was  not  used.  The  king  generally  rose  at  six  hi  the  morn- 
ing. He  shaved  himself,  and  the  faithful  Clery  dressed 
his  hair.  He  then  went  to  his  reading-room  or  study. 
He  there  read,  or  wrote,  till  nine.  At  nine  o'clock  the 
royal  family  assembled  hi  the  king's  chamber  for  break- 
fast. At  ten,  the  king  went  with  his  children  to  the 
queen's  apartment,  and  there  passed  the  day.  He  em- 
ployed himself  in  educating  his  son ;  giving  him  lessons 
in  reading,  in  geography,  and  in  reciting  choice  passages 
of  the  most  distinguished  French  poets.  The  queen  was 
employed  in  the  instruction  of  her  daughter,  during  the 
same  interval. 

The  rest  of  the  time  till  one  was  passed  in  needle-work, 
and  in  general  conversation.  At  one  o'clock,  if  the  weather 
was  fair,  the  royal  family  were  allowed  to  promenade  in 
the  garden,  under  the  care  of  four  municipal  officers,  and 
a  commander  of  a  legion  of  the  national  guards.  Dinner 


152  HABITS  OF  THE  ROYAL  PRISONERS. 

was  served  up  at  two.  Santerre  usually  visited  the  royal 
family  at  this  time.  The  king  occasionally  spoke  to  him, 
the  queen  never.  In  the  evening,  the  tune  was  passed 
in  reading  from  some  historical  work.  At  nine  the  family 
supped,  and  shortly  after  separated  for  the  night.  The 
king  kissed  his  children,  and  then  retired  to  his  lonely  tur- 
ret, where,  in  solitude  and  silence  he  usually  remained 
reading  and  meditating  till  midnight.  Each  apartment 
was  always  under  the  strict  watch  of  an  officer. 

On  the  assembling  of  the  national  convention  the  ques- 
tion was  soon  proposed :  what  shah1  be  done  with  the  royal 
captives  in  the  Temple  ?  On  the  first  announcement  of 
this  inquiry,  a  profound  silence  pervaded  the  assembly. 
At  length  Barbaroux  rose  and  said  that  this  question 
was  premature.  It  was  first  necessary  to  determine 
whether  the  convention  was  a  judicial  body;  whether  it 
was  a  court  of  justice  as  well  as  a  legislature ;  whether  it 
could  execute  laws  as  well  as  make  them.  He  added, 
that  if  the  trial  of  Louis  XVI.  came  within  the  range  of 
the  functions  of  the  assembly,  it  had  many  more  culprits 
to  try  besides  those  already  named.  The  important  ques- 
tion was  then  referred  to  the  committee  of  legislation,  for 
their  determination. 

The  committee  took  six  weeks  for  the  consideration  of 
this  question.  This  delay  was  agreeable  to  some  parties, 
and  obnoxious  to  others.  The  more  moderate  and  intel- 
ligent part  of  the  nation,  as  well  as  the  nobility  and  the 
ecclesiastical  orders,  hoped  that  in  the  interval  the  popu- 
lar fury  might  calm  down,  and  that  the  delusion  might 
pass  away,  which  condemned  Louis  as  a  traitor  to  his 
country ;  as  the  enemy  of  liberty ;  as  a  man  who,  on  any 


TRIAL  OF  LOUIS  PROPOSED.  153 

account,  deserved  the  punishment  of  death.  On  the 
other  hand,  all  the  enraged  factions  loudly  demanded  the 
trial  of  the  king.  The  Jacobin  club  was  pertinaciously 
active  and  prominent  among  the  agitators.  They  ac- 
cused the  Girondists  of  delaying  the  trial  of  the  monarch 
by  their  quarrels  and  disorders,  with  which  they  distracted 
the  national  assembly.  It  was  apparent  to  every  ob- 
server, that  the  memorable  day  could  not  be  very  far  dis- 
tant, when  the  injured  son  of  St.  Louis  was  to  stand,  as 
an  accused  culprit,  at  the  bar  of  his  country. 

The  committee  to  whom  was  referred  the  question  of 
the  trial  of  Louis  XVI.  at  length  presented  its  report. 
That  report  contained  the  charges  against  the  monarch, 
as  well  as  the  documentary  proofs  on  which  they  were 
based.  Two  points  were  to  be  determined  by  the  assem- 
bly. The  first :  whether  the  king  could  be  tried  at  all. 
The  second :  if  he  could,  what  tribunal  was  competent  to 
pronounce  the  judgment  ?  The  report  of  the  committee 
was  printed ;  and  being  translated  into  most  of  the  lan- 
guages of  Europe,  soon  spread  throughout  the  continent. 

The  doctrine  which  had  universally  prevailed  through- 
out Europe  for  a  thousand  years  previous  to  this  period; 
which  had  been  founded  in  the  mediaeval  era  of  feudal 
power ;  and  which  had  been  established  by  the  acquies- 
cence of  all  civilized  nations  afterward,  was  that  the  per- 
son of  a  king  is  sacred  and  inviolable ;  that  he  may  be  de- 
posed, but  being  the  anointed  of  God,  and  the  represen- 
tative of  his  government  on  earth,  he  cannot  be  impris- 
oned or  slain. 

The  negative  of  the  question,  therefore,  of  the  inviola- 
bility of  the  king's  person,  found  powerful  advocates  m 
G* 


154  TRIAL  OF  LOUIS  DECREED. 

the  national  convention.  A  violent  debate  ensued,  and 
the  ablest  men  on  both  sides  put  forth  their  best  efforts. 
The  Jacobins,  as  might  be  expected,  contended  furiously 
for  the  immolation  of  the  long  on  the  bloody  altar  of  their 
frenzy  and  ambition.  St.  Just,  who  afterward  became 
badly  celebrated,  made  his  first  great  display  in  the  con- 
vention on  this  question.  He  exhibited  considerable 
power  of  logic  and  declamation.  He  was  followed  by  M. 
Morisson,  the  most  zealous  advocate  of  the  inviolability 
of  the  person  of  the  king.  The  arguments  of  the  latter 
were  answered  by  Robespierre,  who  spoke  with  his  usual 
fierceness  and  acrimony.  He  declared  that  Louis  XVI. 
was  fighting  against  liberty  from  the  recesses  of  his  prison ; 
that  he  should  be  condemned  to  death  without  any  de- 
liberation whatever;  that  to  deliberate  was  to  doubt; 
that  to  doubt  was  to  commit  treason  against  the  republic, 
and  against  freedom ;  that  to  call  in  question  the  guilt 
of  Louis  XVI.  was  to  condemn  the  servants  of  liberty, 
who  had  brought  the  revolution  on  thus  far ;  who  had 
enacted  the  scenes  of  the  10th  of  August,  and  every  other 
glorious  and  memorable  triumph.  Such  was  the  language 
used  by  this  powerful  political  maniac.  He  added,  that 
the  foes  of  liberty  everywhere  were  endeavoring  to  crush 
her  to  the  earth,  in  the  person  of  Louis  XVI.  by  shielding 
and  protecting  him. 

At  length,  on  the  3d  of  December,  the  convention 
passed  the  decree,  that  Louis  XVI.  should  be  tried  by  it. 
The  forms  of  the  trial  were  then  taken  into  consideration. 
The  assembly  then  decreed  that  it  possessed  all  power, 
legislative,  executive,  and  judicial;  that  it  alone  could  try 
the  king,  and  decide  upon  his  fate.  It  then  resolved  to 


THE  ROYAL  FAMILY  SEPARATED.  155 

dismiss  all  other  business  from  its  consideration,  until  the 
destiny  of  the  monarch  had  been  determined,  and  that 
the  convention  should  immediately  proceed  to  his  trial. 

The  sad  intelligence  of  this  new  outrage  which  was  in- 
tended for  the  unhappy  monarch,  was  first  communicated 
to  Madam  Elizabeth,  his  sister,  by  Clery,  his  faithful  ser- 
vant. He  also  informed  her  that  during  the  trial  the 
commune  had  determined  to  separate  him  from  his  family. 
He  devised  a  means  of  communication  between  the  mem- 
bers of  the  persecuted  family,  after  the  separation  took 
place.  It  could,  however,  only  convey  one  idea  to  the 
king's  family.  This  plan  was,  to  carry  a  handkerchief 
from  the  king  to  the  princes,  should  he  be  ill.  The  king 
was  informed  by  his  sister  of  the  unwelcome  truth  that 
his  trial  was  soon  to  commence. 

The  executive  power  was  ordered  to  take  all  necessary 
means  for  the  preservation  of  order  during  the  trial. 
The  declaration  containing  all  the  charges  against  the  king 
was  presented  to  the  assembly  on  the  10th  of  December ; 
and  the  appearance  of  Louis  before  his  accusers  and  his 
judges,  was  fixed  for  the  llth  of  that  month. 

On  the  morning  of  that  day,  a  numerous  body  of  troops 
surrounded  the  Temple — the  prison  in  which  the  unhappy 
monarch  was  confined.  At  nine,  the  royal  family  repaired 
as  usual  to  breakfast  in  the  king's  apartment.  The  officers 
who  were  present  watched  the  captives  closely.  At 
length  the  family  separated.  The  king  desired  that  his 
little  son,  the  dauphin,  might  be  left  with  him  a  few  mo- 
ments. The  request  was  rudely  denied.  He  desired  to 
know  why  this  request  was  refused,  and  that  small  favor 
which  the  most  savage  of  men  would  have  granted,  was 


156  LOUIS  APPEARS  BEFORE  HIS  JUDGES. 

so  cruelly  withheld  from  him.  The  answer  was,  that  the 
council  of  the  commune  had  so  ordered  it.  The  king  then 
tenderly  embraced  his  son ;  and  after  his  departure  he 
walked  about  the  room  in  much  agitation.  He  then  sat 
down  and  leaned  his  head  upon  his  hand.  In  this  position 
the  unhappy  monarch  remained  alone  for  half  an  hour, 
absorbed  in  the  most  mournful  and  crushing  reflections. 
The  oflicer  on  guard,  who  stood  outside  his  door,  appre- 
hending that  something  was  the  matter,  went  in.  The 
king  on  being  disturbed  said,  "  What  do  you  want  with 
me ? "  "I  was  afraid  you  were  not  well,"  was  the  an- 
swer. The  king  replied  in  a  tone  of  the  deepest  anguish, 
"  The  way  in  which  they  have  taken  my  little  son  from 
me,  cuts  me  to  the  heart."  The  officer  withdrew  in  si- 
lence. The  undeserved  agony  of  fallen  greatness  had 
melted  even  his  brutal  spirit.  What  an  outrage  on  hu- 
manity was  perpetrated  in  the  sufferings  which  were  in- 
flicted by  fiends  incarnate,  on  this  most  innocent  and 
amiable  of  men ! 

The  mayor  of  Paris  at  length  arrived,  and  informed  the 
king  that  the  convention  summoned  him  to  its  bar,  as 
Louis  Capet.  "Capet 'was  the  name  of  one  of  my  ances- 
tors," replied  the  king ;  "  it  is  not  mine."  He  then  en- 
tered the  carriage  of  the  mayor,  and  proceeded  to  the 
assembly.  Santerre  announced  to  that  body  the  arrival 
of  the  king.  Barrere,  the  most  infamous  of  all  the 
wretches  who  disgraced  the  revolution  with  his  crimes, 
said,  "  Citizens,  the  eyes  of  Europe  are  upon  you.  Pos- 
terity will  judge  you  with  inflexible  severity ;  therefore 
preserve  the  dignity  and  dispassionate  coolness  which  be- 
fit judges."  When  the  king  entered,  profound  silence 


HIS  DIGNIFIED  APPEARANCE.  157 

pervaded  the  assembly.  The  dignity  and  serenity  of 
Louis  XVI.  under  the  new  and  astounding  circumstan- 
ces which  surrounded  him,  struck  his  accusers  and  his 
judges  with  profound  reverence.  For  a  moment  even 
his  bitterest  enemies  were  overawed  by  the  moral  gran- 
deur of  the  scene ;  and  by  the  composure  and  self-posses- 
sion displayed  by  the  outraged  monarch,  which,  if  he  had 
ever  been  weak  before,  now  wholly  redeemed  his  fame. 
Even  St.  Just,  Marat,  and  Robespierre,  lately  so  fanatical 
and  furious,  for  a  moment  appeared  to  feel  the  upbraid- 
ings  of  conscious  injustice  and  shame. 

"  Be  seated,"  said  Barrere,  "  and  answer  the  questions 
which  shall  be  put  to  you."  Louis  sat  down  and  listened 
attentively  to  the  reading  of  the  Acte  enonciatif,  which 
contained  all  the  accusations  against  him.  He  was 
charged,  in  that  document,  with  a  conspiracy  to  thwart 
the  movement  of  the  14th  of  July;  with  the  refusal  to 
sanction  the  declaration  of  rights ;  with  a  false  oath  at  the 
Federation  on  the  14th  of  July ;  with  conspiring  with 
Talon  and  Mirabeau  to  effect  a  counter  revolution ;  with 
using  his  veto  on  various  occasions  in  oppression  of  liber- 
ty ;  with  the  flight  to  Yarrennes ;  with  continuing  their 
pay  to  emigrated  courtiers  and  soldiers ;  with  refusing  to 
sanction  the  decree  for  the  emancipation  of  twenty  thou- 
sand men  near  Paris ;  with  the  organization  of  secret  anti- 
revolutionary  societies  in  Paris ;  and  with  causing  the 
bloodshed  which  took  place  on  the  10th  of  August,  in  the 
capital. 

To  all  these  charges  the  king  answered  with  firmness 
and  dignity.  He  denied  some  of  the  alleged  facts;  he  im- 
puted others  to  his  ministers ;  and  he  protested  that  in  all 


158  HIS  ARRAIGNMENT. 

cases  he  had  never  deviated  from  the  constitution  of  his 
country. 

The  king  then  demanded  the  assistance  of  counsel.  A 
violent  tumult  arose  among  the  demagogues  and  fanatics 
at  the  announcement  of  this  request.  Some  of  the  most 
infamous  of  them  spoke  against  granting  the  demand ; 
pretending  that  it  was  only  an  expedient  to  protract  the 
final  judgment.  This  was  probably  the  first  instance  in 
the  history  of  the  world,  and  among  civilized  nations,  in 
which  a  defendant's  plea  of  not  guilty,  and  his  demand 
made  to  the  court  which  tried  his  case,  to  have  counsel 
assigned  him  for  his  defense,  was  construed  by  that  court 
in  to  a  pretext,  a  mere  subterfuge,  to  avert  or  protract 
the  verdict.  We  question  whether  even  the  semi-bar- 
barous inhabitants  of  Morocco  or  Lapland  would  have 
made  so  absurd,  and  so  outrageous  an  objection.  Yet 
such  an  objection  was  gravely  urged,  by  various  mem- 
bers of  the  legislature  of  the  greatest  nation  of  Christen- 
dom ;  so  powerful  is  the  force  of  popular  frenzy  and  delu- 
sion on  the  human  mind ! 

After  a  violent  conflict,  the  request  of  Louis  XVI.  was 
complied  with.  He  selected  Turgot,  Malesherbes,  and 
Tronchet.  The  first  of  these  declined  in  consequence 
of  his  great  age ;  and  from  the  fact,  that  for  many  years 
he  had  retired  from  practice.  The  second  had  been  the 
bosom  friend  of  Turgot  and  Maurepas ;  a  man  of  pro- 
found learning  and  great  respectability  of  character.  He 
was  seventy  years  of  age,  and  had  passed  with  honor 
through  many  scenes  connected  with  the  glory  and  splen- 
dor of  the  ancient  regime.  The  third  was  a  younger 
man,  of  great  ability,  who  was  rapidly  rising  in  his  pro- 


HIS  COUNSEL.  159 

fession,  upon  whom  the  principal  labor  and  responsibility 
of  the  defense  rested. 

The  convention  had  decreed  that  during  the  preparation 
for  the  trial,  the  king  should  have  his  two  children  with 
him.  But  as  they  refused  to  allow  the  whole  royal  family 
to  be  together,  the  king,  knowing  that  the  society  of  his 
children  was  more  necessary  to  the  queen  than  to  himself, 
refused  to  deprive  her  of  that  consolation. 

The  three  advocates  of  the  king  found  it  necessary  to 
add  to  their  number  another.  This  person  was  M.  Desere. 
The  counsel  had  free  access  to  their  illustrious  and  unfor- 
tunate client.  They  had  a  burdensome  task  to  perform. 
The  mass  of  materials  which  they  were  to  digest  was  im- 
mense. They  labored  night  and  day.  At  length  the  26th 
day  of  December  had  arrived,  the  day  appointed  for  the 
trial.  The  king  rode,  as  before,  to  the  assembly  with  the 
mayor,  and  was  cheerful  and  courteous  in  his  intercourse 
with  them.  There  was  but  little  scenic  splendor  or  for- 
ensic display  at  this  most  important  trial  of  modern  times. 
The  forms  and  proceedings  which  were  somewhat  after 
the  fashion  of  the  civil  law,  did  not  allow  of  either.  The 
trial,  if  such  it  may  be  termed,  excited  tne  vulgar  curi- 
osity of  the  crowd,  and  the  hall  of  the  assembly  con- 
tained a  singular  and  miscellaneous  multitude,  who  looked 
with  the  same  heartless  eagerness  on  the  proceedings  as 
they  would  upon  a  bull-fight,  or  a  combat  of  gladiators. 
But  every  candid  and  intelligent  observer  was  convinced 
that  Louis  XVI.  had  long  since  been  condemned  by  a  fore- 
gone conclusion ;  and  that  all  the  efforts  of  his  counsel  and 
of  bis  personal  and  political  friends,  could  not  possibly 


160  THEIR  EFFORTS  IN  HIS  BEHALF. 

avert  the  blow  which  the  fanatical  vengeance  of  the  rev- 
olutionists had  prepared  for  him. 

The  king's  counsel  first  discussed  the  principles  of  law 
which  the  case  involved,  and  afterward  argued  upon  the 
facts.  It  was  urged  by  them,  that  Louis  looked  in  the  as- 
sembly for  his  judges,  whereas  he  beheld  everywhere  only 
his  accusers.  Their  defense  of  the  king  was  long,  learned, 
and  able.  The  assembly  listened  to  their  efforts  with 
dignified  attention.  After  they  had  concluded,  Louis 
made  a  few  observations  which  he  had  written.  He  end- 
ed by  saying,  "  In  addressing  you,  perhaps  for  the  last 
time,  I  declare  that  my  conscience  reproaches  me  with 
nothing ;  and  that  my  counsel  have  stated  to  you  the 
truth.  I  assert,  that  the  many  proofs  I  have  at  all  times 
given  you  of  my  love  for  the  people,  and  the  manner  in 
which  I  have  always  governed  my  conduct,  ought  to 
prove  to  you  that  I  was  not  afraid  to  expose  myself  to 
prevent  bloodshed ;  and  to  clear  me  forever  from  such  a 
charge."  With  these  simple  words,  so  true  and  so  im- 
pressive, the  king  took  his  leave  of  the  convention,  with 
whom  it  was  worse  than  vain  to  argue.  In  leaving,  the 
king  saluted  an  assembly  of  Frenchmen  who  refused  to 
reciprocate  the  courtesy !  To  such  a  degree  may  politi 
cal  fanatacism  blunt  even  the  amenities  of  our  nature ! 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  DOWNFALL  OF  THE  ANCIENT  MONARCHY  OF  FEANCE. 

AN  immense  tumult  immediately  ensued  upon  the  king's 
departure  from  the  convention.  The  next  thing  in  order 
was  the  discussion  upon  the  defense  which  he  had  made. 
Some  of  the  deputies,  however,  raised  a  great  outcry 
against  the  endless  delays  which  were  thus  allowed,  as 
they  said,  to  obstruct  the  onward  path  of  justice.  They 
wanted  no  discussion.  The  tempest  continued  to  rage 
for  an  hour  with  great  violence.  At  length  order  was  re- 
stored ;  and  the  assembly  resolved  that  the  final  discus- 
sion on  the  king's  fate  should  be  resumed  on  the  27th  of 
that  month. 

On  that  day  the  assembly  was  addressed  by  a  large 
number  of  the  ablest  orators  of  all  parties.  The  majority 
argued  in  favor  of  his  condemnation,  reserving  the  ques- 
tion of  the  nature  of  his  punishment,  as  a  subsequent  and 
distinct  inquiry.  The  rest,  who  were  few  in  number,  con- 
tended for  an  appeal  to  the  nation,  which  was  intended  to 
rescue  him.  Some  of  the  representatives  had  been  deeply 
affected  by  the  serenity  and  dignity  displayed  by  this  in- 
jured prince  ;  and  could  not  refrain  from  giving  utterance 
to  their  feelings.  Of  this  number  was  Vergniaud,  the 
eloquent  leader  of  the  Girondists.  He  spent  the  whole 
night  after  the  condemnation  of  Louis,  in  tears.  There 

were  many  others  who,  upon  that  memorable  occasion, 

11 


162  SPEECH  OF  ROBESPIERRE. 

were  unable  to  stifle  the  innate  feelings  of  humanity  and 
justice,  which  even  the  fanaticism  and  frenzy  of  the  revo- 
lution had  failed  to  eradicate.  But  their  influence  and 
their  numbers  were  small,  compared  with  the  immense 
mass  of  the  Jacobins  and  their  coadjutors,  whose  mem- 
bers constituted  the  great  majority  of  the  assembly. 

Robespierre  spoke  on  this  occasion  with  more  than  his 
usual  fury.  This  was  the  greatest  opportunity  which  had 
yet  offered  itself  to  displpy  his  talents,  and  augment  his 
power.  Like  all  hypocr'^es,  he  too  must  pretend  to  a 
semblance  of  humanity  and  virtue.  He  had  been  moved 
at  the  sight  of  the  accused,  thus  humbled  before  the 
mighty  power  of  the  people.  But  the  greatest  sacrifice, 
he  said,  that  he  could  make  for  his  country's  good,  was 
to  stifle  those  humane  emotions,  when  they  endangered 
the  welfare  of  the  state.  He  then  spoke  of  the  constant 
delays  which  retarded  the  cause  of  justice.  He  con- 
demned the  appeal  to  the  people.  He  proceeded  to  quote 
allusions  to  instances  of  ancient  republican  virtue — Cre- 
tias,  Socrates,  and  Cato.  He  desired  the  convention  to 
proceed  manfully  against  the  worst  of  tyrants,  and  not  to 
flinch  in  the  performance  of  their  stern  though  unpleas- 
ant duty.  He  ended  by  demanding  the  immediate  con- 
demnation of  Louis,  and  his  punishment  by  death. 

The  discussions  on  the  fate  of  the  king  lasted  five  days. 
Vergniaud,  Brissot,  Gensonne,  Petion,  Barrere, — each 
spoke  at  great  length  and  with  much  ability.  The  last 
of  these,  especially,  by  the  appearance  of  calm  impartiality 
which  he  assumed,  exerted  a  more  fatal  influence  against 
the  king,  and  displayed  deeper  turpitude  than  any  of  his 
associates.  The  14th  of  January,  1793,  was  at  length  ap- 


THE  DECREE  OF  GUILTY.  163 

pointed  as  the  period  for  putting  the  final  vote  in  refer- 
ence to  Louis  XVI.  and  his  destiny. 

When  that  momentous  day  arrived,  an  immense  multi- 
tude surrounded  the  assembly  and  filled  the  tribunes.  It 
was  decreed  that  the  votes  of  the  assembly  should  be  ta- 
ken upon  these  points  :  whether  the  king  had  been  guilty 
of  treason ;  whether  the  judgment  should  be  referred  to 
the  people  ;  and  what  should  be  his  punishment.  It  was 
also  determined  that  each  member  should  vote  from  the 
tribune  ;  that  he  should  write  his  vote ;  then  sign  it ;  and 
if  he  desired,  add  his  reasons  for  so  doing.  When  the 
votes  were  taken,  six  hundred  and  eighty-three  members 
declared  Louis  XVI.  guilty,  without  any  explanation  or 
reservation.  Thirty-seven  declared  him  guilty,  but  de- 
nied the  right  of  the  convention  to  condemn  and  punish 
him.  Twenty-eight  members  were  absent  on  various  ex- 
cuses and  commissions.  Not  one  single  person  among 
that  large  assemblage  of  seven  hundred  and  forty-nine 
intelligent  Frenchmen,  had  either  the  fortitude  or  the  im- 
partiality to  declare  Louis  XVI.  innocent ! 

The  second  question  to  be  decided  was  the  appeal  to 
the  people.  On  this  point,  two  hundred  and  eighty-one 
deputies  voted  for  an  appeal  to  the  people.  Four  hun- 
dred and  twenty-three  voted  against  it.  The  rest  of  the 
members  were  either  absent  or  declined  to  vote.  It  waa 
thus  decided  by  a  majority  of  the  representatives,  that 
the  fate  of  the  unhappy  king  should  not  be  referred  to 
the  decision  of  the  nation. 

The  next  day  was  appointed  for  the  vote  upon  the  third 
and  most  important  question — the  nature  of  the  king's 
penalty.  On  that  day  the  crowd  was  greater  and  the  in- 


164  VOTE  UPON  THE  KING'S  PUNISHMENT. 

terest  more  intense,  than  they  had  been  at  any  previous 
period.  The  tribune  was  occupied  at  an  early  hour  by  the 
most  furious  of  the  Jacobins,  hi  order  that  they  might 
more  closely  scrutinize  the  voters,  and  their  sentiments. 
It  was  expected  that  the  sitting  would  be  both  a  protracted 
and  an  excited  one,  and  some  preliminaries  were  neces- 
sary to  maintain  the  preservation  of  order  and  security. 
These  occupied  nearly  the  whole  day.  It  was  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening  when  the  voting  began ;  and  the 
assembly  decreed  that  the  sitting  should  be  permanent, 
until  the  voting  had  been  concluded. 

A  scene  and  an  occasion  like  the  one  which  was  about 
to  ensue,  was  certainly  most  memorable  in  the  history  of 
nations.  An  excited  band  of  adventurers  and  dema- 
gogues were  about  to  decree  the  destiny  of  the  immediate 
successor  but  one  of  Louis  XIV.,  who  was  regarded  in 
his  day  as  the  most  powerful  and  formidable  sovereign  in 
Europe.  This  band  was  about  to  exert  an  usurped  au- 
thority over  the  throne,  and  over  the  institutions  and 
prerogatives  of  ages.  What  had  been  the  work  of  many 
successive  generations  of  men ;  that  which  all  their  toils, 
their  triumphs,  and  their  vicissitudes  had  established,  these 
irresponsible  fanatics  were  about  to  blast  from  the  face 
of  the  earth  and  from  the  sight  of  men,  by  one  fell 
sweep  of  their  mushroom  power  and  supremacy.  The 
solemn  knell  of  the  mighty  Capet  dynasty  was  about  to 
strike  forever ;  its  long  line  of  glorious  heroes  and  illus- 
trious kings,  was  about  to  be  extinguished  and  descend 
to  the  tomb  in  anguish,  ignominy,  and  disgrace.  Those 
men  who  were  about  to  dispose  of  the  life — not  of  a 
mere  citizen,  not  of  a  prince,  nor  even  of  a  statesman, 


DIFFERENT  PENALTIES  PROPOSED.  165 

but  of  a  great  sovereign — knew  not,  scarcely,  at  that  very 
moment,  whence  the  means  were  to  come  to  pay  the  hum- 
ble lodgings  which  they  then  occupied !  Such  are  some 
of  the  strange  vicissitudes  which  occur  in  the  affairs  and 
the  fortunes  of  men ;  teaching  most  impressively  the  van- 
ity of  human  greatness,  and  how  despicable  may  be,  and 
often  are,  the  possessors  and  the  depositaries  of  human 
power. 

The  voting  began.  The  most  reasonable  and  the  most 
honorable  of  the  members  of  the  assembly,  voted  in  fa- 
vor of  the  banishment  of  the  king  ;  or  for  his  imprison- 
ment until  peace  was  restored,  and  for  his  subsequent 
banishment.  Another  class  voted  for  the  death  of  Louis, 
with  the  express  proviso,  that  it  would  be  expedient  to 
stay  the  execution  of  the  sentence  for  an  indefinite  time. 
They  did  this  knowing  that  the  gaining  of  time  would 
be  everything  for  Louis,  and  that  probably  that  sentence 
would  be  equivalent  to  an  acquittal.  The  vast  majority 
of  the  assembly,  however,  displayed  a  very  different  spirit. 
While  each  member  was  ascending  the  steps  of  the  trib- 
une to  deposit  his  vote,  profound  silence  pervaded  the 
hah1,  hi  order  that  each  vote  might  be  distinctly  heard, 
and  tokens  of  censure  or  approbation  were  given  accord- 
ingly. In  the  intervals,  the  most  violent  threats  and  bois- 
terous shouts  pervaded  the  place;  presenting  a  despicable 
scene  of  disorder  and  confusion,  utterly  unworthy  of  the 
great  occasion,  and  of  the  important  interests  which  were 
under  consideration. 

As  the  voting  progressed,  and  as  the  Word  u  Banish- 
ment," seemed  to  be  frequently  pronounced,  the  excite- 
ment became  intense.  The  fate  of  the  unfortunate  king 


166  THE  DECREE  OF  DEATH. 

seemed  to  hang  upon  an  uncertainty.  Suddenly  an  ap 
palling  spectacle  presented  itself.  Among  the  masses- 
which  crowded  the  center  of  the  hall,  a  singular  sight  ap- 
peared. It  was  the  tottering  figure  of  a  man  who  seemed 
from  his  ghastly  and  death-like  appearance,  to  have  left 
the  grave  to  be  present  at  the  sealing  of  the  fate  of  one 
who  was  soon  to  join  him  in  that  sad  abode.  It  was  a 
deputy  named  Dudhatd,  who  had  left  his  bed  of  sick- 
ness, and  had  been  carried  to  the  convention  by  the  still 
active  and  hoping  friends  of  the  king,  that  he  might  cast 
his  vote  for  "  Banishment." 

At  length  all  the  ballots  were  deposited.  The  assem- 
bly had  been  voting  all  night  and  all  the  succeeding  day. 
Seven  hundred  and  forty-nine  members  had  voted.  Three 
hundred  and  sixty-one  had  decided  for  death  uncondition- 
ally. Two  hundred  and  eighty-six  had  voted  for  banish- 
ment. The  rest  had  voted  either  for  death  and  delay  of 
execution,  or  for  imprisonment.  After  the  ballots  were 
counted,  Vergniaud,  the  president,  announced  with  a  sol- 
emn voice,  the  following  decision :  "  The  punishment 
pronounced  against  Louis  Capet  is  Death!  " 

Immediately  after  the  announcement  of  the  horrid  de- 
cree of  the  convention,  it  was  asserted  that  an  error  had 
been  committed  in  counting  the  votes.  The  assembly  re- 
solved to  verify  the  result,  and  proceeded  to  examine  the 
votes  anew.  It  was  then  discovered  that  the  original 
counting  had  been  correct. 

M.  Malesherbes,  as  the  oldest  friend  and  confidant  of 
the  king,  was  selected  by  his  counsel  to  perform  the  un- 
grateful task  of  conveying  to  him  the  decree  of  the  con- 
vention. When  he  entered  the  apartment  of  the  king, 


LOUIS  LEARNS  HIS  FATE.  167 

he  found  him  resting  with  his  forehead  on  his  hands,  ab- 
sorbed in  a  profound  and  mournful  reverie.  He  immedi- 
ately said  to  M.  Malesherbes,  "  For  two  hours  I  have 
been  reviewing  my  whole  reign,  and  trying  to  remember 
whether  I  have  ever  given  any  cause  of  complaint  to  iny 
subjects,  and  I  must  say  sincerely,  that  I  have  been  able 
to  remember  no  instance  of  the  kind.  I  have  always  en- 
deavored for  their  good." 

Louis  anticipated  his  fate,  and  was  prepared  to  meet  it. 
He  then  said  to  his  friend,  "Have  you  not  met  the 
White  Lady  near  my  prison  ?  "  What  do  you  mean  ? 
inquired  he.  The  king  answered  with  a  smile,  "  Do 
you  not  know,  that  when  a  prince  of  our  house  is  about 
to  perish,  a  female  dressed  in  white  is  seen  wandering 
about  the  palace  ?  "  Then  assuming  a  serious  and  respect- 
ful manner,  he  uttered  these  sublime  words ;  " "My  friend, 
I  am  about  to  depart  before  you,  to  the  land  of  the  just. 
There  I  shall  be  at  rest.  My  only  regret  is  for  my 
helpless  family,  whom  I  leave  behind  me,  uncertain  of 
their  fate.  But  we  will  be  reunited,  at  last,  in  Heaven." 
Overcome  by  his  emotions,  he  added  no  more. 

The  convention  had  yet  one  more  question  to  decide, 
in  reference  to  their  helpless  victim.  It  was  whether 
there  should  be  any  reprieve.  It  was  determined  that 
each  deputy  should  vote  in  his  seat,  either  yes  or  no. 
Three  hundred  and  ten  voted  for  delay.  Three  hundred 
and  eighty  voted  against  it.  It  was  thereupon  decreed 
that  Louis  should  die  within  twenty-four  hours  ! 

This  memorable  session  of  the  convention  had  occupied 
seventy-two  hours.  It  might  reasonably  be  supposed 
that  on  so  solemn  an  occasion,  suitable  order  and  decorum 


108  SCENES  IN  THE  ASSEMBLY. 

would  have  characterized  the  behavior  of  the  assembly. 
The  reverse  was  actually  the  case.  The  most  disgraceful 
scenes  occurred.  The  further  extremity  of  the  hall  was 
converted  into  seats  and  private  boxes.  These  were 
filled  with  notorious  prostitutes,  dressed  in  the  immodest 
style  which  befitted  their  profession ;  and  there  they  re- 
ceived the  compliments  of  their  acquaintances  among  the 
members,  and  were  entertained  with  ices,  oranges,  and 
liquors.  Several  females  particularly  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  whole  assemblage,  by  the  superior  splendor 
of  their  dress,  and  by  their  majestic  and  voluptuous  beauty. 
A  particular  box  was  appropriated  to  their  use.  They 
were  two  of  the  mistresses  of  the  duke  of  Orleans, 
(Egalite) 

The  galleries  were  also  filled  with  women.  Somo 
of  these  were  the  insane  female  Jacobins,  who  had  taken 
a  prominent  part  in  the  insurrections  of  the  capital.  They 
were  drinking  brandy,  laughing,  and  jesting.  Bets  were 
lightly  made  upon  the  issue  of  the  trial.  Impatience  and 
disgust  seemed  to  sit  on  every  countenance.  The  figures 
of  the  deputies,  passing  silently  to  and  fro,  as  they  de- 
posited their  votes,  rendered  more  ghastly  and  ghost-like 
by  the  feeble  and  uncertain  light  of  the  wax  tapers  as 
the  night  advanced,  augmented  the  horrid  gloom  of  the 
scene.  Some  of  the  deputies  had  fallen  asleep,  and  were 
only  awakened  to  deposite  their  ballot  of  death  against 
the  king. 

As  the  hours  of  the  night  slowly  advanced  the  confusion 
became  more  universal.  When  the  duke  of  Orleans  was 
called  on  to  vote,  he  proceeded  toward  the  tribune  with 
faltering  step,  and  with  a  countenance  paler  than  death. 


DUKE  OF  ORLEANS  VOTES  FOR  DEATH.  169 

He  then  read  these  words :  "  Influenced  exclusively  by 
my  duty,  and  convinced  tnat  all  those  who  resist  the  sov- 
ereignty of  the  people  deserve  to  die,  my  vote  is  for 
death!"  This  unnatural  decision  given  by  the  first 
prince  of  the  blood,  and  evidently  extorted  by  a  craven 
fear  of  the  popular  power,  called  forth  from  every  part  of 
the  hall  groans  and  hisses  of  contempt.  Even  the  fierce 
Jacobins  failed  to  applaud  the  base  tribute  thus  rendered 
to  their  terrible  power,  by  this  unworthy  scion  of  a  fallen 
but  immortal  race. 

The  fate  of  Louis  XVI.  was  now  sealed  forever.  Well 
might  the  assembly  pause  and  shudder  at  the  act  which  it 
had  just  perpetrated.  Well  might  all  Paris  be  over- 
whelmed with  gloom  and  sadness.  A  deed  which  filled 
the  civilized  world  with  horror,  might  readily  have  caused 
a  few  compunctious  thoughts  to  its  desperate  perpetrators. 
The  dreadful  news  was  officially  conveyed  to  the  king,  by 
a  committee  of  the  convention  headed  by  Garat.  The 
king  received  the  news  with  calmness.  His  last  request 
was  for  permission  to  see  his  family ;  to  have  a  confessor  to 
assist  him  in  his  religious  duties ;  and  liberty  for  his  family 
to  retire  from  France.  He  then  ordered  his  dinner  and 
ate  as  usual.  He  remarked  the  absence  of  knives  on  the 
table.  He  smiled  and  said,  "  Do  not  think  me  so  weak  as 
to  lay  violent  hands  on  myself.  I  am  innocent,  and  am 
not  afraid  to  die."  M.  Edgeworth  was  the  ecclesiastic 
whose  assistance  the  king  desired  to  have  in  his  last 
moments. 

The  most  sad  and  painful  duty  of  all  yet  remained  for 
the  prince  to  perform;  and  for  this  he  summoned  all  his 
energy.  It  was  to  bid  a  last  adieu  to  his  family.  His- 


1  70        LOUIS'  LAST  INTERVIEW  WITH  HIS  FAMILY. 

tory  scarcely  records  among  all  its  harrowing  details,  a 
scene  more  affecting  and  distressing  than  the  parting  in- 
terview between  this  unhappy  and  persecuted  monarch, 
and  his  wife  and  children.  The  domestic  affections  of 
Louis  were  very  strong.  His  attachment  to  his  children 
was  unusually  intense.  How  great  the  contrast  between 
the  parting  interview  which  was  about  to  take  place  be- 
tween the  members  of  that  family,  and  the  previous 
scenes  of  their  history !  When  Louis  first  embraced  the 
beautiful  and  accomplished  princess,  his  wife,  whom  he 
was  now,  for  the  last  time,  about  to  fold  to  his  breast, 
how  widely  different  had  been  their  circumstances  !  He 
was  the  youthful  and  happy  heir-apparent  to  a  splendid 
throne,  with  the  prospect  of  a  long  and  brilliant  reign  be- 
fore him.  She  was  the  most  splendid  and  magnificent 
woman  in  Europe ;  full  of  bewitching  grace  and  loveli- 
ness ;  the  proud  daughter  of  an  illustrious  line  of  emper- 
ors ;  her  very  presence  was  fascination ;  and  she  was  the 
perfection  of  a  wife,  a  princess,  and  a  queen.  In  the  pos- 
session of  her  charms,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  her  love, 
Louis  might  have  been  regarded  as  the  most  fortunate 
and  happy  of  men.  That  once  blooming  and  brilliant 
form  he  was  now  about  to  press  to  his  breast  for  the  last 
time — a  trembling,  crushed,  and  shattered  wreck  of  the 
blooming  bride  she  once  had  been. 

The  queen  was  apprised  that  the  hour  for  the  final  in- 
terview had  arrived.  She  had  been  informed  for  some 
time  of  the  fate  which  the  assembly  had  decreed  to  her 
husband.  At  half  past  eight  in  the  evening  his  door  waa 
opened,  and  his  wife  and  children  made  their  appearance. 
They  all  rushed  into  his  arms.  A  sad  silence  prevailed 


THEIR  INTENSE  GRIEF.  171 

for  some  minutes,  broken  only  by  sobs  and  groans.  The 
king  then  sat  down,  his  queen  on  one  side,  his  sister,  Mad 
am  Elizabeth,  on  the  other,  his  children  between  his  knees. 
All  were  leaning  on  the  king,  and  pressing  him  in  their 
arms.  The  sad  interview  lasted  two  hours,  during  which 
time  the  unhappy  family  exchanged  those  tokens  and  ex- 
pressions of  affection,  which  are  always  dear  to  hearts 
that  are  bursting  with  grief,  and  whose  only  consolation 
is  their  mutual  sympathy  and  their  tears.  At  length  the 
king  rose,  and  moved  toward  the  door.  There  he  pressed 
each  beloved  one  again  for  the  last  time  affectionately  to 
his  breast.  The  tears  and  sobs  of  the  heart-broken  fami- 
ly were  here  renewed.  Louis  knew  that  it  was  for  the 
last  time  that  his  eyes  rested  on  those  graceful  forms  he 
loved  so  well,  though  his  family  yet  hoped  for  one  more 
parting  interview.  u  Farewell !  Farewell !  "  said  he,  as  he 
tore  himself  from  their  embraces,  and  rushed  back  into 
his  chamber.  The  door  then  closed,  and  the  king  was 
left  alone.  Here  for  the  first,  and  for  the  last  time,  his 
manly  spirit  failed  him,  as  well  it  might ;  and  the  faithful 
Clery,  who  waited  at  his  door,  overheard  the  agonizing 
sighs  and  moans  of  his  heart-broken  master. 

In  a  few  minutes  Louis  recomposed  himself,  and  sent 
for  his  confessor.  During  the  night  he  slept  well.  The 
Abbe  Edgeworth  occupied  Clery's  bed  in  the  same  apart- 
ment with  the  king.  In  the  morning,  the  priest  celebra- 
ted mass,  at  which  impressive  service  the  king  assisted 
with  proper  reverence  and  devotion.  He  then  confessed, 
and  received  the  holy  communion.  The  altar  was  con- 
structed of  a  chest  of  drawers,  placed  in  the  middle  of 
the  apartment.  The  priest's  vestments  were  borrowed 


1Y2  LOUIS  RECEIVES  THE  COMMUNION. 

from  a  church  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Temple.  Du- 
ring the  service  Louis  was  seated  in  an  arm-chair,  placed 
by  Clery  in  front  of  the  altar.  He  knelt  upon  a  cushion 
which  lay  before  him.  It  was  thus  that  this  last  solemn 
and  sacred  rite  was  performed  for  the  dying  king. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  DEATH  OF  THE  KOTAL  MAETTES,  LOUIS  ZVI.  AND  XVII. 

THE  enormities  of  the  French  revolution  would  have 
remained  incomplete,  had  they  not  been  terminated  by 
several  additional  acts  of  preeminent  and  unparalleled 
infamy.  These  acts  were  the  execution  of  Louis  XVI., 
the  murder  of  his  wife,  the  unfortunate  and  beautiful 
Maria  Antoinette,  and  the  slow  but  sure  destruction  of 
their  son,  the  dauphin. 

When  Louis  was  informed  that  the  last  hour  of  his  ex- 
istence had  arrived,  he  gave  the  signal  to  the  few  attend- 
ants who  yet  surrounded  him,  to  advance.  He  and  the 
Abbe  Edgeworth  occupied  the  back  seat  of  the  carriage. 
Several  gen  d'armes  sat  on  the  front.  During  the  ride  to 
the  scene  of  this  national  murder,  the  king  was  engaged 
in  devoutly  reading  in  the  breviary  of  the  priest,  the 
prayers  appropriate  to  those  about  to  die.  It  is  said  that 
the  soldiers  had  express  orders  to  destroy  Louis  should 
the  carriage  be  attacked,  and  a  rescue  attempted  by  his 
partisans  and  friends. 

The  scaifold  had  been  erected  in  the  Place  de  la  Revo- 
lution. Around  this  immense  area  a  large  number  of 
cannon  had  been  planted,  to  suppress  any  movement 
which  might  be  made  in  behalf  of  the  victim.  A  vast 
multitude  lined  the  whole  route  from  the  Temple  to  the 
place  of  execution.  At  precisely  ten  o'clock  in  the  fore- 
noon the  carriage,  the  progress  of  which  had  been  very 


174  LOUIS  ASCENDS  THE  SCAFFOLD. 

slow,  halted,  and  Louis  XVI.  rising  with  energy,  stepped 
forth  into  the  area.  Three  executioners,  eager  for  their 
infamous  work,  immediately  seized  his  hands,  in  order  to 
bind  them  behind  him.  The  king  was  about  to  resist  this 
unnecessary  insult,  when,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  he 
yielded,  and  submitted  to  this  last  indignity.  He  was 
thus  conducted  to  the  scaffold,  accompanied  by  the 
priest.  He  ascended  the  steps  with  firmness,  and  having 
reached  the  summit  of  the  platform,  he  looked  around 
him  with  composure  and  dignity.  There,  the  descendant 
of  many  illustrious  kings  had  at  length  reached  the  last 
stage  of  his  memorable  and  unfortunate  career.  From 
the  height  of  that  eminence  he  looked  at  the  immense  mul- 
titudes who  had  once  proudly  called  him  their  sovereign, 
and  who,  but  a  few  short  years  before,  had  hailed  his  ac- 
cession to  the  throne  with  loud  and  eager  acclamations. 
He  then  gazed  at  that  immense  capital,  which  had  been 
the  brilliant  home  and  seat  of  his  long  line  of  ancestors ; 
which  had,  for  so  many  generations,  been  identified  with 
their  glory  and  their  power ;  and  which  they  had  so  long 
delighted  to  adorn  and  beautify.  Then  turning  from  this 
spectacle,  so  pregnant  with  affecting  reminiscences  of  the 
past,  and  directing  his  eyes  to  the  crowds  immediately 
around  the  scaffold,  he  uttered  in  a  voice  loud,  clear,  and 
unwavering,  these  words :  "  Frenchmen,  I  die  innocent 
of  the  crimes  imputed  to  me.  I  forgive  the  authors  of 
my  death.  I  pray  that  my  blood  may  not  fall  upon 
France."  He  would  have  said  more,  but  the  command- 
ant, fearing  perhaps  that  the  words  of  the  king  might  ex- 
cite a  diversion  in  his  favor,  ordered  the  drums  to  beat. 
The  loud  and  deafening  clatter  immediately  drowned  the 


HIS  DEATH.  175 

voice  of  the  king,  and  he  desisted.  The  executioners 
then  took  hold  of  him.  They  rudely  dragged  him  be- 
neath the  ax  of  the  guillotine,  and  laid  his  head  down  upon 
the  block.  In  a  moment,  the  glittering  blade  fell  heavily, 
and  the  head  of  Louis  bounded  with  violence  into  the 
basket  placed  beneath  the  scaffold  to  receive  it.  In  an 
instant,  the  earth  and  all  its  scenes  faded  from  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  murdered  king ;  and  as  the  ancient 
blood  of  the  Bourbons  crimsoned  the  soil  over  which  they 
had  so  long  swayed  the  scepter ;  and  as  the  freed  spirit 
of  Louis  passed  away  forever  from  the  earth  ;  the  Abbe 
Edge  worth,  overcome  by  the  mournful  grandeur  of  the 
scene,  raised  his  hands,  and  exclaimed  with  impressive 
sublimity,  "  Son  of  St.  Louis,  ascend  to  heaven !  "  The 
execution  occurred  on  the  21st  of  January,  A.  D.  1793. 
After  a  short  time,  the  immense  assembly  gradually  dis- 
persed. The  body  of  the  king  was  immediately  conveyed, 
not  to  the  royal  sepulchre  of  St.  Denis,  where  the  long 
line  of  French  monarchs  lay  buried ;  but  his  remains  were 
hurried  to  the  cemetery  of  the  Madeleine,  where  the  last 
sad  burial  rites  were  performed  in  silence  and  solitude, 
without  the  least  circumstance  of  parade,  by  a  few  faith- 
ful and  attached  adherents  of  the  royal  family.  The 
corpse  was  covered  with  quick-lime,  which  was  intended 
to  produce  rapid  decomposition,  so  that  if  the  popular 
fury  might,  at  any  subsequent  period,  make  an  attempt 
to  violate  the  sanctuary  of  the  tomb,  and  commit  any  ad- 
ditional outrage  upon  these  remains,  the  purpose  might 
be  prevented.  The  decomposition  was  so  rapid  and  com- 
plete, that  after  the  downfall  of  Napoleon  in  1815,  when 


1-76  THE  PLACE  DE  LA  REVOLUTION. 

an  effort  was  made  by  the  restored  family  to  recover  the 
remains,  not  the  least  traces  of  them  could  be  found. 
'  Louis  was  executed  on  the  same  spot,  upon  which  af- 
terward Maria  Antoinette,  his  sister,  the  princess  Eliza- 
beth, and  many  of  the  noblest  spirits  in  France  terminated 
their  existence  in  blood.  It  was  also  the  very  spot  on 
which  Danton  and  Robespierre  subsequently  expiated 
their  innumerable  crimes.  It  was  the  same  spot  on  which 
the  heroic  Charlotte  Corday  met  her  fate,  with  a  dignity 
worthy  of  immortal  honor,  as  one  of  the  most  resolute  and 
devoted  friends  of  true  liberty. 

Years  of  mighty  change  and  vicissitude  to  France 
rolled  by ;  and  this  same  spot  was  again  made  memora- 
ble by  the  fact,  that  on  it  the  assembled  sovereigns  and 
princes  of  Europe  took  their  position,  when  the  armies 
of  the  allied  powers  entered  Paris  in  1815,  and  once  more 
restored  the  exiled  Bourbons  to  their  rightful  throne. 
What  affecting  associations  must  cluster  around  the  spot, 
which  has  been  the  scene  of  such  amazing  and  such  con- 
tradictory events ! 

The  will  of  Louis  XVI.  which  he  prepared  some  tune 
before  bis  death,  in  anticipation  of  his  fate,  gives  utter- 
ance to  such  sentiments  as  might  be  expected  from  so 
good  a  man,  and  so  amiable  a  prince.  What  sublime  re- 
signation and  heroic  courage  are  contained  in  the  follow- 
ing words,  which  occur  in  it :  "  Abandoned  by  the  whole 
universe,  I  now  have  none  but  God  to  whom  I  can  ad- 
dress myself.  Shut  up  with  my  family  in  the  tower  of 
the  Temple  at  Paris,  by  those  who  were  once  my  subjects, 
and  implicated  in  a  process  of  which  it  is  impossible  for 


WILL  OF  LOUIS  XVI.  177 

me  to  foresee  the  issue,  I  thus  declare  my  last  wishes  and 
sentiments : 

"  I  die  in  the  bosom  of  our  Holy  Catholic,  Apostolic, 
Roman  church.  I  pray  God  to  receive  my  deep  repent- 
ance for  having  affixed  my  name,  though  it  was  done 
against  my  will,  to  any  acts  which  were  contrary  to  the 
discipline  of  the  Catholic  faith,  to  which  I  have  ever  re- 
mained sincerely  attached.  I  request  those  whom  I  may 
have  inadvertently  offended — for  I  do  not  remember  to 
have  given  offense  to  any  intentionally — and  those  whom 
I  may  have  unjustly  charged  with  faults,  to  pardon  the 
injury  they  may  suppose  me  to  have  done  them. 

"  I  forgive  with  all  sincerity,  those  who  may  have  been 
my  enemies,  without  having  received  from  me  any  injury ; 
and  I  pray  God  to  pardon  them  as  well  as  all  others  who 
may  have  done  me  harm. 

"  I  commend  to  Almighty  God  my  wife,  my  children, 
my  aunts,  my  brothers,  and  all  others  who  are  connected 
with  me  by  ties  of  blood.  I  pray  God  to  look  upon  my 
family  who  suffer  so  much  with  me,  with  an  eye  of  mercy, 
and  to  support  them  with  his  grace  when  I  am  dead.  I 
commend  my  children  to  my  wife.  I  have  never  doubted 
her  maternal  tenderness  for  them.  I  exhort  her  particu- 
larly to  make  them  good  Christians  and  honest  members 
of  society ;  to  teach  them  to  look  upon  the  grandeurs  of 
this  world,  if  they  should  be  so  unfortunate  as  to  possess 
them,  as  dangerous  and  perishable  treasures,  and  to 
direct  their  attention  to  the  only  solid  and  durable  glory 
of  eternity.  I  entreat  my  sister  to  continue  her  tender- 
ness to  my  children,  and  to  supply  the  place  of  a  mother, 

should  they  ever  have  the  misfortune  to  lose  their  own. 
H*  12 


178  ITS  CONTENTS. 

"  I  beseech  my  wife  to  pardon  all  the  miseries  which 
she  endures  on  my  account,  and  all  the  vexations  I  may 
have  occasioned  her,  during  the  period  of  our  union. 
And  she  may  rest  assured,  that  should  she  think  that  she 
has  anything  to  reprove  herself  with  respecting  me,  that 
I  have  no  such  feeling  or  remembrance. 

"  I  recommend  to  my  son,  should  he  ever  become  un- 
fortunate enough  to  become  a  king,  to  reflect  that  he 
must  devote  himself  to  the  happiness  of  his  fellow-citizens ; 
that  he  ought  to  forget  all  hatred  and  resentment,  espe- 
cially what  may  relate  to  the  sufferings  I  have  endured ; 
that  he  may  promote  the  happiness  of  his  people  by  reign- 
ing according  to  the  laws ;  but  at  the  same  time,  that  a 
king  cannot  cause  the  laws  to  be  respected,  unless  he  pos- 
sess a  necessary  degree  of  authority,  and  that  otherwise 
confined  in  his  operations  and  unable  to  inspire  respect, 
he  becomes  more  injurious  than  useful. 

"  I  recommend  to  my  son,  the  dauphin,  to  take  care  of 
every  person  attached  to  me,  as  far  as  the  circumstances 
hi  which  he  may  find  himself  placed,  may  permit.  There 
were  some  of  those  who  were  about  me,  that  have  not 
conducted  themselves  toward  me  as  they  ought  to  have 
done,  and  have  been  ungratefuL  I  forgive  them,  and  I 
entreat  my  son  only  to  think  of  their  distresses. 

"  I  request  the  gentlemen  of  the  commune  to  deliver 
to  Clery  my  effects,  my  books,  my  watch,  my  purse,  and 
the  other  little  articles  which  were  deposited  at  the  coun- 
cil of  the  commune.  I  forgive  the  ill-treatment  of  those 
who  have  been  my  keepers  during  my  captivity,  and  the 
harsh  restrictions  they  thought  themselves  bound  to  prac- 
tice toward  me.  I  have  found  some  compassionate  souls. 


CHARGES  AGAINST  THE  QUEEN  179 

May  they  enjoy  that  tranquillity  in  their  hearts,  which 
their  reflections  can  bestow  upon  them. 

"  I  request  M.  M.  Malesherbes,  Tronchet  and  Desere, 
to  accept  my  sincere  thanks,  and  the  warmest  expressions 
of  my  sensibility,  for  the  care  and  trouble  they  have  given 
themselves  on  my  account. 

"  I  conclude  by  declaring  before  God  and  the  world, 
and  as  ready  to  appear  in  His  presence,  that  I  have  not  to 
reproach  myself  with  any  of  the  crimes  which  have  been 
laid  to  my  charge. 

"  Written  at  the  Temple,  December  25th,  A.  D.  1792." 

But  a  few  months  after  the  judicial  murder  of  Louis 
XVI.,  in  October,  1793,  his  unfortunate  wife  and  queen 
was  compelled  to  undergo  the  same  ignominious  fate.* 

*  The  act  of  accusation  against  her  consisted  of  several  charges,  the 
substance  of  which  was  that  she  had  contributed  to  the  derangement 
of  national  finances,  by  remitting  from  time  to  time  considerable 
sums  to  her  brother,  the  Emperor  Joseph  ;  that  since  the  revolution 
she  had  continued  to  hold  a  criminal  correspondence  with  foreign 
powers ;  that  in  every  instance  she  had  directed  her  views  to  a 
counter  revolution,  particularly  in  exciting  the  body  guards  and  oth- 
ers of  the  military  at  Versailles,  on  the  first  of  October,  1789  ;  that  in 
concert  with  Louis  Capet  she  had  distributed  counter  revolutionary 
papers  and  writings  ;  and  even,  to  favor  their  purposes,  some  in 
which  she  was  personally  defamed  ;  that  in  the  beginning  of  Octo- 
ber, 1789,  by  the  agency  of  certain  monopolists,  she  had  created  an 
artificial  famine ;  that  she  was  a  principal  agent  and  promoter  of 
the  flight  of  the  royal  family  in  June,  1791 ;  that  she  instituted  pri- 
vate councils  in  the  palace,  at  which  the  massacres,  as  they  were 
termed,  in  the  Champ  de  Mars,  and  at  Nancy,  were  planned;  that 
in  consequence  of  these  councils,  she  had  persuaded  her  husband 
to  interpose  his  veto  against  the  decrees  concerning  the  emigrants 
and  the  refractory  priests ;  and  that  she  influenced  him  to  form  a 
guard  composed  of  disaffected  persons,  and  refractory  priests. 


180  DEATH  OF  MARIA  ANTOINETTE. 

We  know  of  no  instance,  in  all  the  wide  range  of  human 
vicissitude  and  misfortune,  which  furnishes  so  impressive 
and  so  affecting  an  illustration  of  the  uncertainty  and 
mutability  of  human  greatness,  as  the  case  of  this  unhappy 
woman.  We  will  not  even  except  the  sufferings  of  Mary, 
Queen  of  Scots ;  because  her  long  imprisonment  of 
eighteen  years  had  gradually  weaned  her  mind  from 
earth,  and  had  blunted  her  sensibility  to  pain.  But  the 
once  fair  daughter  of  Maria  Theresa,  born  in  the  most 
brilliant  court  in  Europe ;  the  daughter,  the  sister,  the 
wife,  and  the  mother  of  kings ;  descended  from  a  long  line 
of  illustrious  sovereigns,  and  allied  by  blood  and  marriage 
to  every  distinguished  monarch  in  Europe ;  she  was  not 
only  executed  as  a  common  felon,  but  her  body,  in  which 
coursed  the  proudest  blood  among  a  hundred  royal  dy- 
nasties, was  buried  with  beggars  in  a  common  ditch.  The 
bill  of  the  undertaker,  who  prepared  the  deal  coffin  for  the 
fallen  princess,  was  worded  thus :  "  For  the  coffin  of  the 
widow  Capet,  seven  francs  I "  She,  whose  imperial  an- 
cestors had  for  many  generations  been  entombed  with 
stately  and  imposing  ceremonies,  with  solemn  and  seraphic 
melodies,  in  marble  and  gilded  mausoleums,  beneath  the 
towering  spire  and  Gothic  dome  of  St.  Stephen's  ancient 
cathedral  at  Vienna ;  upon  whose  exquisitely  beautiful 
sarcophagi  the  most  accomplished  talents  of  the  sculptor 
had  been  expended;  even  she  was  consigned  to  the  grave 
at  last  by  brutal  hands,  amid  savage  and  indecent  jests,  in 
a  rude  box,  whose  utmost  cost  to  the  state  was  seven 
francs !  And  when  twenty  years  afterward,  the  restored 
dynasty  of  the  Bourbons  endeavored  to  find,  amid  the 
mouldering  and  undistinguished  dust  of  that  common 


THE  RECOVERY  OF  HER  REMAINS.  Igi 

fosse,  the  remains  of  her  who  had  once  occupied  so  high 
a  place,  and  had  possessed  such  imperial  state,  only  on« 
poor  mark  or  remnant  of  all  her  former  glory  could  be 
found,  rescued  from  the  oblivion  of  the  past.  The  crum- 
bling dust  of  the  murdered  queen,  after  a  protracted  search, 
was  recognized  by  the  garter  bearing  upon  it  the  royal 
arms  of  France,  which  still  clasped  the  ghastly  remains 
of  those  knees,  before  which  chivalrous  and  gallant  men 
of  many  nations  had  once  been  proud  to  bow  in  courtly 
admiration.  By  that  garter  alone,  Maria  Antoinette  was 
then  distinguished  from  the  common  herd  of  prostitutes, 
assassins,  and  vagabonds,  which  had  so  long  surrounded 
her,  and  had  commingled  with  her  dust ! 

The  g'reat  concern  expressed  by  Louis  XVI.  in  the 
destiny  of  his  son  and  representative,  the  dauphin  of 
France,  and  the  intrinsic  interest  of  the  subject  itself, 
render  it  proper  that  the  history  of  the  one  should  be 
made  complete  by  some  details  respecting  the  life  and 
fate  of  the  other.  Nor  would  we  be  able  to  form  a  correct 
idea  of  France  and  her  people  during  the  first  revolution, 
were  we  to  omit  all  statements  respecting  a  theme  so  close- 
ly indentified  with  the  subject  of  the  preceding  pages. 

Charles  Louis,  the  dauphin  of  France,  was  the  second 
son  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Maria  Antoinette ;  and  was  born 
at  Versailles,  March  27th,  1785.  The  cardinal  De  Rohan 
administered  to  him  the  sacrament  of  baptism,  imme- 
diately after  his  birth.  At  the  period  of  his  father's 
death  he  was  in  the  eighth  year  of  his  age ;  and  was  re- 
markable for  several  things:  for  the  fairness  of  his  com- 
plexion, the  beauty  of  his  person,  and  the  vivacity,  intelli- 
gence, and  amiability  of  his  disposition.  In  1 789  his  elder 


182         THE  DAUPHIN  OF  FRANCE. 

brother  lied,  and  thus  it  was  that  Charles  Louis  became, 
in  regular  succession,  the  dauphin  of  France,  and  heir-ap- 
parent *o  the  throne  of  St.  Louis. 

The  earliest  years  of  the  child  were  passed  in  the 
amusements  and  exercises  usual  with  persons  of  his  rank 
and  a/je ;  and  as  he  became  older,  the  charms  of  his  dis- 
position rendered  him  more  and  more  an  object  of  inter- 
est aud  attention.  On  the  28th  of  January,  1793,  imme- 
diately after  the  murder  of  his  father,  his  uncle,  the  Count 
de  Provence,  who  was  then  residing  at  one  of  the  minor 
German  courts,  proclaimed  him  the  successor  of  Louis 
XVI.  under  the  title  of  Louis  XVII.  He  thus  became 
a  legitimate  sovereign,  and  a  suitable  subject  for  the 
scrutiny  of  history. 

On  the  first  day  of  July,  1793,  it  was  decreed  by  the 
"  committee  of  public  safety "  that  the  dauphin  should 
be  separated  from  his  mother  in  the  Temple,  and  con- 
fined in  another  apartment.  At  ten  o'clock  at  night,  af- 
ter the  dauphin  had  retired  to  rest,  his  mother  was  in- 
formed of  the  sad  intelligence  which  was  to  separate  her 
from  her  son.  She  was  distracted  at  the  thought,  and 
besought  the  officers  by  every  moving  and  affecting  ap- 
peal, which  a  mother's  love  could  suggest,  not  to  distress 
her  with  so  heavy  an  affliction.  Her  efforts  to  move 
their  pity  were  ah1  in  vain,  and  the  little  dauphin,  over- 
come with  astonishment  and  distress  at  this  strange  and 
sudden  change,  was  torn  from  her  embraces,  and  taken  to 
that  apartment  in  the  tower  of  the  Temple  which  had 
been  occupied  by  his  unfortunate  father. 

By  this  transition  the  young  prince  was  placed  under 
the  control  of  the  famous  Simon,  an  artist  in  shoe-leather. 


THE  COBBLER  SIMON.  183 

This  individual  was  a  creature  of  Marat,  who  had  pro- 
posed him  for  this  trust,  and  had  been  approved  and  ap- 
pointed by  Robespierre.  He  was  a  rude,  ignorant,  pas- 
sionate, and  vulgar  wretch ;  just  such  an  one  as  we  might 
suppose  would  be  a  favorite  and  congenial  associate  of 
Marat,  "  the  fiiend  of  the  people." 

It  is  matter  of  undisputed  truth  that  the  treatment  be- 
stowed by  his  jailor  upon  the  young  dauphin,  was  most 
brutal  and  cruel.  Whenever  news  arrived  of  some  par- 
tial triumphs  gained  by  the  royalist  forces  in  La  Vendee, 
Simon  was  sure  to  punish  the  prince  for  their  successes 
by  severe  blows,  and  by  the  most  unfeeling  persecution. 
"  It  is  your  friends,"  said  he,  "  you  young  villain,  who  are 
cutting  our  throats,  and  ruining  the  cause  of  liberty." 
The  dauphin,  scarcely  knowing  the  meaning  of  the  cob- 
bler's allusions,  smothered  his  sobs,  while  the  unbidden 
tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks. 

The  day  after  he  had  been  separated  from  his  mother, ' 
she  sent  him  his  books,  his  writing  materials,  and  his  toys. 
Simon  appropriated  the  former  to  the  intellectual  purpose 
of  lighting  his  pipe,  while  the  latter  he  would  amuse  him- 
self with  breaking  up,  and  defacing  in  the  presence  of 
the  weeping  prince,  who  in  vain  implored  to  have  them 
spai'ed.  On  the  2d  of  August,  1793,  the  national  assem- 
bly added  another  to  the  long  list  of  its  outrages,  by  de- 
creeing that  Maria  Antoinette  should  be  entirely  re- 
moved from  the  Temple  and  confined  in  the  prison  of  the 
Gonciegerie.  From  that  hour  the  heart-broken  queen 
never  again  beheld  her  unhappy  son ! 

After  this  period  the  cruelty  of  Simon  became  more  ex- 
cessive and  severe.  On  one  occasion  when  the  child  re- 


184          SIMON  WITHDRAWS  FROM  THE  TEMPLE. 

fused  to  sing  a  revolutionary  song,  in  which  his  mother 
was  honored  with  the  epithet  of  Austrian  she-wolf.  Si- 
mon threw  an  andiron  at  his  head,  which  would  inevitably 
have  destroyed  him,  had  he  not,  by  a  sudden  movement, 
evaded-  it. 

The  only  regret  of  Maria  Antoinette  in  leaving  a  world 
in  which  her  destiny  had  been  so  sad  and  so  singular,  was 
solicitude  for  the  fate  of  her  two  children.  After  her  exe- 
cution their  situation  became  sufficiently  friendless.  The 
dauphin's  sister  was  confined  in  the  Temple,  though  her 
condition  was  somewhat  more  tolerable  than  that  of  her 
brother.  The  treatment  of  Simon  was  intended  both  to 
destroy  the  health  of  the  child,  and  to  demoralize  his 
mind.  The  wretch  succeeded  in  accomplishing  both  pur- 
poses previous  to  his  removal  from  the  Temple.  The 
health  of  the  latter  amiable  individual  began  to  fail  from 
the  constant  state  of  brutal  intoxication  in  which  he  lived, 
together  with  the  confinement  of  his  situation ;  and  he 
obtained  permission  to  retire.  He  took  leave  of  his  un- 
happy little  victim  with  these  words :  "  Oh,  the  young 
villain !  he  is  not  yet  quite  crushed,  but  he  never  will  es- 
cape now,  even  if  all  the  priests  in  the  world  should  come 
to  his  aid."*  After  Simon's  departure,  the  dauphin  was 
removed  to  another  larger  apartment,  which  was  then 
bolted  and  fastened  up,  as  if  it  was  intended  that  the 
prince  should  never  come  forth  again  alive.  His  food  was 
put  in  to  him  between  the  iron  bars  of  the  door.  He  had 

*  It  is  a  comfortable  reflection,  of  which  we  would  not,  on  any 
account,  deprive  the  reader,  that  this  despicable  wretch  Simon 
was  afterward  guillotined  with  his  friend  and  patron  Robespierre. 
Avenging  justice,  though  slow,  was  sure,  in  this  as  it  is  in  all 
other  cases  to  measure  out  deserved  punishment  to  the  guilty. 


DEATH  OF  THE  PRINCESS  ELIZABETH.  185 

neither  light  nor  fire.  No  human  soul  was  ever  allowed 
to  enter  the  room.  It  remained  unswept  and  uncleansed 
for  some  months,  and  amid  its  damp  and  heavy  shades 
the  lonely  and  friendless  child  was  left  to  while  away  the 
tedious  hours  of  his  existence,  in  solitary  communion  with 
his  own  thoughts.  The  little  victim  never  even  beheld 
the  hand  that  gave  him  his  bread  and  water.  No  friendly 
voice  ever  cheered  him  by  its  sympathy.  The  cold  and 
massive  walls  of  that  ancient  dungeon  chilled  his  tender 
frame  through  and  through;  and  if  a  curious  stranger 
ever  was  permitted  to  look  through  the  grated  door,  he 
beheld  the  bent  and  shivering  form  of  the  unconscious 
and  lonely  child,  somewhere  amid  the  heavy  glooms  of 
his  prison  house,  silent,  cheerless,  and  almost  unconscious 
of  his  sad  being.  He  was  thus  cut  off  entirely  from  all  in- 
tercourse with  his  relations,  and  with  the  external  world. 
He  was  allowed  no  amusement,  no  occupation.  On  the 
10th  of  May,  1794,  his  aunt,  the  princess  Elizabeth  was 
guillotined  and  added  another  to  the  royal  victims  of  the 
revolution ;  and  the  little  prince  and  his  captive  sister, 
were  left  alone  in  the  world.  One  more  murder  of  help- 
less innocence  and  youth  was  yet  wanted,  to  fill  up  the 
measure  of  the  damnable  infamy  of  the  "  Friends  of 
Freedom." 

The  treatment  of  the  dauphin  had  now  been  such  for 
some  months,  that  it  must  inevitably  end  in  idiotcy  or  in 
death.  He  became  more  and  more  reduced.  He  could 
at  length  hardly  leave  his  bed,  and  crawl  to  the  stone  jug 
which  contained  his  water.  He  lost  all  appetite,  and  his 
tasteless  food  was  left  scattered  about  the  floor  of  his 
prison,  which  .became  infested  with  rats,  mice  and  the  most 


186  HORRID  CONDITION  OF  THE  DAUPHIN. 

offensive  vermin.  No  cleansing  had  taken  place  for 
months,  and  the  atmosphere  became  putrid  and  poisonous. 
As  a  necessary  consequence,  the  health  of  the  little  sufferer 
became  ruined,  his  frame  became  emaciated,  his  arms 
and  knees  were  attacked  with  scrofulous  swellings,  his 
back  became  crooked ;  and  death,  more  merciful  than  the 
"Friends  of  Liberty,"  would  soon  have  ended  the  woea 
of  his  existence. 

At  this  period,  by  some  accident,  it  became  noised 
abroad  through  Paris  that  the  condition  of  the  son  of 
Louis  XVI.  was  most  pitiful  and  miserable.  The  rumor 
at  length  reached  the  convention ;  and  curiosity  induced 
that  body  to  send  Laurent,  a  member  of  the  revolutionary 
committee,  to  examine  into  the  state  of  the  dauphin,  and 
to  assume  the  post  of  guardian  over  him.  This  person 
appears  to  have  possessed  an  ordinary  share  of  humanity, 
and  to  have  been  capable  of  feeling  for  the  misfortunes  of 
others.  As  soon  as  he  was  installed  in  his  new  post,  he 
visited  the  cell  of  the  dauphin  and  called  him  by  name. 
He  received  no  answer,  and  immediately  ordered  work- 
men to  remove  the  iron  bars  of  the  door.  He  entered, 
and  a  horrid  sight  indeed  presented  itself  to  view.  On 
the  filthy  bed  there  appeared  to  be  laying  something  in 
the  shape  of  a  child,  half  covered  with  rags ;  offensive 
from  the  dirt  with  which  it  was  covered ;  unable  to  move 
from  the  position  in  which  it  then  was ;  and  looking  with 
mingled  terror  and  astonishment  at  the  visitor  who  thus 
disturbed  his  accustomed  solitude.  His  head  and  neck 
were  covered  with  sores;  his  wrists  and  knees  were 
swelled  enormously ;  the  nails  of  his  hands  and  feet  had 
grown  to  long  claws,  and  his  whole  appearance  bore  the 


VISIT  OF  LAURENT.  187 

impress  of  mingled  idiotcy  and  death.  His  mind  seemed 
to  be  gone.  To  the  various  questions  put  to  him  he  made 
no  answer ;  he  only  gazed  with  a  vacant  stare  upon  the 
intruders,  and  seemed  striving  to  discern  in  the  gloom  and 
darkness  of  his  horrid  abode,  their  features  and  their 
forms.  At  length,  being  asked  whether  he  wanted  any- 
thing, he  answered  hi  feeble  and  almost  inaudible  ac- 
cents; " I  want  to  die!" 

No  time  was  to  be  lost  if  their  unfortunate  little  suf- 
ferer was  to  be  rescued  from  immediate  death.  His 
prison  was  cleaned.  The  barred  windows  were  opened, 
so  that  the  light  and  air  might  enter.  A  comfortable  bed 
was  prepared  for  him.  His  sores  were  dressed.  His  per- 
son was  washed  and  clean  linen  provided  for  him.  His 
hair  was  cut  and  combed ;  and  other  necessary  changes 
were  made  in  his  situation.  The  child  could  not  suppress 
his  surprise  at  these  marks  of  unaccustomed  kindness ; 
and  expressed  his  gratitude  to  his  benefactor  in  the  most 
touching  and  affecting  manner. 

Notwithstanding  this  favorable  change  hi  the  condition 
of  the  dauphin,  his  health  seems  to  have  gradually  de- 
clined. The  fatal  work  had  already  been  accomplished ; 
the  seeds  of  death  had  been  planted  within  him.  In 
March,  1795,  Laurent  obtained  permission  to  leave  his 
post  in  the  Temple,  and  bade  farewell  to  bis  young  friend, 
who  was  filled  with  gloom  at  his  departure.  The  suc- 
cessor of  Laurent  was  named  Lasne.  This  man  had  been 
a  soldier,  and  had  frequently  been  on  guard  at  the  Tuil- 
eries,  where  he  had  seen  the  dauphin,  and  had  become 
familiar  with  his  features  and  person.  He  immediately 
recognized  the  young  prince,  and  contrasted  his  present 


188  LASNE  APPOINTED  KEEPER. 

appearance  and  condition  with  the  brighter  and  happier 
period  of  his  existence.  Though  he  treated  his  ward  with 
the  greatest  kindness,  three  weeks  elapsed  before  he  could 
get  a  single  word  from  him ;  so  completely  had  terror 
and  abuse  subdued  the  spirit  of  the  child,  and  filled  him 
with  continual  apprehension.  At  length  Lasne  recalled 
to  the  recollection  of  the  dauphin  the  little  regiment  of 
boys  of  which  he  had  been  the  commander,  at  the  Tuile- 
ries,  and  the  maneuvers  which  Lasne  had  himself  wit- 
nessed when  on  duty  at  that  palace.  It  was  the  first 
pleasing  reminiscence  of  the  past  which  had  cheered  hia 
youthful  spirit  for  many  months.  After  that  incident 
the  child  became  affectionately  free  and  confidant  to  his 
keeper. 

But  his  health  continued  to  decline.  In  May,  1 795,  the 
convention  was  informed  that  the  dauphin  was  danger- 
ously ill.  Dessault,  a  distinguished  physician  of  Paris, 
was  appointed  to  visit  him.  He  expressed  the  opinion, 
that  the  child  was  gradually  wasting  away  from  the  com- 
bined effect  of  scrofulous  disease,  and  of  confinement  and 
ill-usage.  He  recommended  that  the  invalid  should  be 
sent  to  the  country,  and  declared  that  nothing  but  the  air 
of  the  country  could  revive  and  restore  him.  But  this 
only  remedy  which  could  accomplish  so  desirable  a  result, 
was  positively  refused.  M.  Dessault  paid  but  two  visits 
to  the  prince,  and  died  on  the  first  of  June.  There  were 
those  living  at  the  time,  who  said  that  he  had  poisoned 
the  dauphin,  and  had  then  himself  been  taken  off  to  pre- 
vent any  disclosures.  Others  asserted  that  he  had  de- 
tected that  the  invalid  in  the  Temple  was  not  the  true 
dauphin  but  a  substituted  child,  and  that  to  prevent  this 


M.  PELLETAN.  189 

disclosure,  he  was  poisoned  by  the  authorities.  The  an- 
swer to  all  these  conjectures  is  that  M.  Dessault,  who 
had  been  the  physician  formerly  to  the  royal  children, 
and  knew  their  persons  well,  never  expressed  to  any  one 
any  doubt  as  to  the  identity  of  the  dauphin ;  nor  did  he 
leave  any  proof  on  record  or  in  existence  that  he  enter- 
tained such  doubts. 

After  the  death  of  Dessault,  M.  Pelletan  was  appointed 
by  the  committee  of  public  safety  to  continue  the  medical 
treatment  of  the  prince.  He  arrived  after  an  interval  of 
six  days,  and  found  his  patient  in  a  hopeless  condition.  All 
that  he  could  do  was  to  order  his  removal  to  another 
apartment,  which  was  better  aired,  and  had  a  more  cheer- 
ful appearance.  For  a  day  or  two  the  child  seemed  to  re- 
vive. But  the  improvement  was  only  temporary.  On 
the  8th  of  July  he  again  became  much  worse.  Lasne, 
who  was  the  first  to  see  and  converse  with  him,  imme- 
diately discovered  the  traces  of  the  advancing  disease. 
At  length  he  remarked  to  him,  "  How  unhappy  I  am  to 
see  you  suffering  so  much."  The  answer  which  he  re- 
ceived was  one  of  singular  interest  and  mystery.  "  Oh 
yes,"  he  answered,  "  I  am  suffering ;  but  the  music  is  so 
sweet !  "  Lasne  was  surprised,  as  well  he  might  be,  at 
this  remarkable  fantasy.  He  knew  that  there  was  no 
music  anywhere  hi  the  Temple,  or  in  the  neighborhood 
of  it.  He  therefore  asked  the  prince,  "  Where  do  you 
hear  the  music?"  "Above,"  said  he.  "How  long 
since  ?  "  "  Since  you  have  been  praying.  Don't  you  hear 
it  ?  Listen ! "  Lasne  had  knelt  by  the  side  of  the  bed, 
and  had  devoutly  repeated  several  prayers.  After  a 
pause  of  surprise  and  pleasure,  the  dying  child  added  with 


1  90  DEATH  OF  THE  DAUPHIN. 

increased  ecstacy,  "  In  the  midst  of  all  the  voices,  I  hear 
my  mother's."  After  a  further  interval  the  child  inquired, 
"  Do  you  think  my  sister  has  heard  the  music  ? — how  hap- 
py it  would  have  made  her."  Lasne,  overcome  with 
emotion,  could  make  no  reply.  The  child  turned  his 
large  eyes  toward  the  opened  window,  and  gazed  intently 
upon  the  blue  sky  beyond  it.  His  soul  seemed  wrought 
up  to  a  high  degree  of  tension,  in  listening  to  the  un- 
natural melody  which  was  soothing  his  dying  moments. 
While  he  appeared  thus  engaged  his  eye  began  to  grow 
dim,  his  countenance  to  lose  its  vitality,  his  body  gradu- 
ally sank  into  the  arms  of  Lasne,  and  hi  a  few  moments, 
without  a  struggle,  he  ceased  to  breathe.  The  perse- 
cuted prince  was  free ;  his  spirit  had  taken  its  everlasting 
flight.  It  was  the  eighth  of  July,  1795,  a  little  more  than 
two  years  after  the  execution  of  Louis  XVI. 

It  might  be  an  interesting  inquiry  to  the  philosopher 
and  the  psychologist,  to  account  for  the  singular  phe- 
nomenon just  narrated,  respecting  the  death  of  the  dau- 
phin ;  whether  the  hearing  of  the  music  in  question  is  a 
proof  that  the  spirits  of  the  departed  are  permitted  to 
cheer,  with  heavenly  melody,  the  last  moments  of  the 
dying ;  or  whether  it  is  to  be  regarded  as  a  mere  delu- 
sion of  the  departing  and  exhausted  spirit ;  or  whether 
its  faculties  can  and  do  become  so  much  strengthened, 
as  its  union  with  its  clay  tenement  loosens,  that  it  has 
power  to  hear  in  the  spirit-land  what  is  unheard  by  or- 
dinary mortals.  It  is  not  our  purpose  to  enter  into  a 
philosophical  or  theological  inquiry  on  this  subject ;  but 
it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  the  historical  truth  of  the 
incident  in  question  is  undoubted,  and  rests  upon  the 


MYSTERIOUS  MUS10.  191 

most  satisfactory  authority.  Such  cases  are  not  without 
parallels  in  the  history  of  minds ;  though  we  know  of 
no  satisfactory  solution  which  has  yet  been  given  of 
them. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE   FALL   OP    ROBESPIERRE   AND   THE    MOUNTAIN. 

UNTIL  the  year  1794  the  power  of  Robespierre  contin- 
ued to  increase  with  amazing  rapidity,  and  to  an  unpar- 
alleled magnitude.  In  the  preceding  year  he  had  bold- 
ly accused  the  most  distinguished  and  able  leaders  of  the 
Girondists, — Brissot,  Vergniaud,  Gaudet,  and  Gensonue, 
— as  being  secretly  attached  to  Dumourier,  and  to  the 
Royalist  cause ;  and  he  had  followed  up  that  daring  blow 
with  attacks  of  such  intense  fury  and  resolution,  that  he 
had  at  *ength  dragged  those  eminent  men  to  the  guillo- 
tine, along  with  an  immense  number  of  their  more  ob- 
scure associates.  In  the  next  place,  he  had  directed  his 
power  against  the  anointed  and  crowned  head  of  Maria 
Antoinette — and  that  head,  once  so  brilliant  and  beautiful, 
rolled  beneath  the  ax  of  the  executioner.  Passing  on  to 
other  members  of  the  royal  family,  his  insatiable  ferocity 
found  new  victims  in  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and  Madam 
Elizabeth,  the  amiable  sister  of  Louis  XVI. 

Then,  not  satisfied  with  the  destruction  of  the  highest 
of  earthly  powers  and  dignities,  and  of  those  who  bore 
them,  Robespierre  even  dared  to  confront  the  majesty  of 
heaven,  and  impiously  decreed  the  abolition  of  the  Christian 
religion ;  he  denied  the  future  immortality  of  the  soul ; 
and  elevating  a  half-naked  prostitute  of  Paris  on  the  high 
altar  of  the  cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  proclaimed  in  her 
person  the  universal  reign  of  the  Goddess  of  Reason. 


GROWTH  OF  ROBESPIERRE'S  POWER.  193 

And  when  other  demagogues,  as  desperate  and  as  un- 
principled, but  not  as  able  as  himself,  advanced  to  the  pos- 
session of  a  degree  of  power  which  endangered  his  own 
supremacy,  he  boldly  struck  at  their  heads,  and  sacrificed 
them,  after  a  prodigious  conflict,  to  his  insatiable  ambition. 
The  powerful  Danton,  Hebert,  and  Camille  Desmoulins, 
once  his  associates  in  nameless  crimes,  but  afterward  his 
rivals  in  the  exercise  of  an  infamous  power,  ah1  fell  victims 
to  his  superior  and  jealous  nature ;  and  expiated  their 
career  of  blood  and  ambition  on  the  scaffold. 

Then  followed  the  cruel  and  bloody  war  in  La  Vendee, 
all  the  excesses  of  which  seemed  to  be  instigated  and  pro- 
tected by  the  power  of  Robespierre.  And  indeed  after 
the  death  of  Danton  and  Hebert,  the  authority  which 
Robespierre  had  obtained  was  absolute  and  uncontrolled ; 
and  he  exercised  that  power  to  the  utter  desolation  of  his 
native  land,  and  to  the  destruction  of  everything  which 
promotes  the  happiness  and  well-being  of  society.  Whole 
cities,  such  as  Lyons  and  Nantes,  were  razed  to  the 
ground ;  and  thousands  of  their  inhabitants  were  massa- 
cred in  cold  blood.  The  committee  of  public  safety  com- 
posed of  Robespierre,  St.  Just,  and  Couthon  were  the  pos- 
sessors of  absolute  authority  throughout  France,  and  of 
that  memorable  committee,  Robespierre  was  the  heart 
and  soul,  and  is  personally  responsible  for  all  its  atrocious 
deeds.  He  held  under  his  control  the  National  Guards, 
commanded  by  the  brutal  Henriot.  He  ruled  the  moun- 
tain in  the  convention ;  he  was  the  divinity  of  the  Jacobin 
club ;  and  through  these  he  governed  the  municipality  and 
the  departments  of  France.  In  June,  1794,  Robespierre 

was  more  absolute  in  France,  and  far  more  terrible,  than 
I  13 


194  AWFUL  STATE  OF  FRANCE. 

Louis  XIV.  had  ever  been  before  him,  or  than  Napoleon 
ever  was  after  him. 

A  proof  of  this  assertion  may  be  seen  in  the  fact,  that 
at  this  time,  by  means  of  his  emissaries  and  associates,  he 
had  thrown  seven  thousand  persons  into  the  various  pris- 
ons of  Paris ;  and  the  number  of  those  in  confinement 
throughout  France  was  two  hundred  thousand.  Their 
condition  was  wretched  beyond  description;  and  the 
amount  of  misery  endured  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact, 
that  the  most  of  these  prisoners  were  persons  of  respecta- 
bility, who  had  been  accustomed  to  the  comforts  of  life, 
and  were  now  deprived  of  everything  adapted  to  make 
life  endurable.  The  state  of  despair  to  which  the  com- 
munity was  reduced,  the  suspicion,  the  fear,  the  perva- 
ding terror,  which  spread  a  pall  of  sadness  and  gloom 
throughout  the  land,  it  would  be  impossible  to  describe. 
Every  man  regarded  his  neighbor  as  his  hidden  foe ;  and 
awaited  with  breathless  apprehension  the  moment  when 
his  accusation  would  come  from  some  unexpected,  but 
inevitable  source.  The  ties  of  relationship,  the  power  of 
affection,  the  suggestions  of  honor,  the  impulses  of  grati- 
tude, seem  all  to  have  wasted  away  beneath  the  wither- 
ing effect  of  selfishness,  suspicion,  and  hatred.  The  count- 
ing house  of  the  merchant  and  the  chateau  of  the  noble- 
man were  continually  invaded  by  the  insensate  rabble  un- 
der the  pretext  of  searching  for  aristocrats ;  and  no  age 
or  rank  or  sex  were  secure  from  the  fangs  of  these  human 
harpies. 

The  usual  number  of  executions  per  day,  during  the 
height  of  Robespierre's  supremacy  was  eighty.  The  carts 
which  conveyed  the  victims  to  the  place  of  execution 


REVOLUTIONARY  SCENES.  195 

were  frequently  filled  with  the  most  accomplished  and 
beautiful  women ;  and  with  the  most  distinguished  and 
cultivated  men.  The  princess  of  Monaco,  in  the  prime  of 
her  blooming  loveliness,  was  conveyed  to  the  scaffold  in 
the  same  wagon  side  by  side  with  some  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished members  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences ;  with 
Lavoisier,  the  illustrious  chemist ;  with  Florian,  the  elo- 
quent novelist ;  with  the  son  of  Buffon  the  naturalist ;  and 
with  the  daughter  of  Vernet  the  painter.  And  these, 
with  thousands  more  of  the  victims  of  the  insensate  fe- 
rocity of  the  revolutionary  leaders,  were  condemned  to 
death,  without  any  form  of  trial  or  impartial  examina- 
tion whatever ;  and  for  no  possible  crime,  but  that  they 
were  not  as  infamous  and  blood-stained  as  their  persecu- 
tors, but  loved  order,  decency,  and  humanity.  In  the  city 
of  Arras,  Le  Bon,  by  Robespierre's  orders,  executed  two 
thousand  persons.  Twenty  thousand  victims  more  fell 
beneath  the  relentless  fury  of  Carrier  at  Nantes.  In  that 
city  hundreds  of  children  of  both  sexes,  under  the  age 
of  foui-teen  years,  were  shot.  The  shortness  of  their  stat- 
ure occasioned  the  bullets  in  many  instances  to  pass  over 
their  heads.  The  terrified  innocents  rushed  forward  and 
clung  around  the  knees  of  their  executioners,  praying  for 
mercy.  But  no  mercy  was  shown  them.  They  were 
murdered  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  From  the  10th 
of  June,  1794,  to  the  17th  of  July  alone,  the  revolutionary 
tribunal  at  Paris  condemned  to  death  and  executed 
twelve  hundred  and  eighty-five  persons.  It  will  not  be 
difficult  to  believe  the  truth  of  this  enormous  estimate, 
when  we  remember  the  process  by  which  convictions 
-were  brought  about.  "  Do  you  know  of  the  conspiracy 


196  JUDICIAL  JESTS. 

in  the  prison  ?  "  "  No."  "  I  expected  you  would  say  so, 
but  that  will  not  save  you.  You  are  condemned."  To 
another  the  question  was  put,  "  Are  you  not  a  noble  ? " 
"Yes."  "Go— you  are  guilty."  To  a  third,  "Are 
you  not  a  priest  ?  "  "  Yes."  "  Then  follow  him."  Some- 
times jests  and  jokes  were  used  to  diversify  the  horrors  of 
the  tribunal  of  death.  An  aged  man  who  had  by  paraly- 
sis lost  the  use  of  his  tongue,  was  placed  at  the  bar.  Be- 
ing unable  to  make  any  answer  when  accused,  the  judge 
said  jestingly,  "  Very  well,  we  don't  want  his  tongue, 
but  his  head !  " 

With  such  feeble  hopes  of  justice  before  them  when 
arraigned,  and  with  such  a  dread  atmosphere  of  suspicion 
and  terror  around  them,  it  may  readily  be  believed  that 
the  whole  nation  began  to  endure  a  living  death,  and  to 
look  around  them  for  the  means  and  the  period  of  their  de- 
liverance from  such  unspeakable  thraldom.  Happily,  the 
day  of  release  was  not  far  distant.  Robespierre,  as  is  al- 
ways the  case  with  tyrants,  invited  his  own  ruin  by  car- 
rying his  atrocities  to  an  extreme  which  no  human  power 
could  endure.  The  enemies  of  his  person  and  his  power 
were  first  found  among  those  who  had  been  his  associates 
in  revolutionary  violence,  but  whom  he  now  determined 
to  remove  from  his  path  and  to  destroy. 

It  was  to  a  woman,  to  Charlotte  Corday,  that  the  im- 
mortal honor  belongs  of  having  delivered  France  from  the 
detested  presence  and  diabolical  influence  of  Marat.  It 
was  also  to  a  woman  far  more  beautiful  but  less  virtuous 
than  she,  that  the  credit  is  due  of  having  nerved  the 
arm  of  Tallien  to  strike  the  deadly  blow,  at  the  very 
thought  of  which  so  many  stout  hearts  trembled,  but 


MADAM  TALLIEK  197 

which  was  necessary  to  deliver  France  from  the  fatal  des- 
potism of  Robespierre. 

It  was  when  on  a  political  mission  to  Bordeaux,  that  Tal- 
lien  first  beheld  the  majestic  beauty  of  the  woman  who 
afterward  exercised  so  potent  an  influence  over  his  des- 
tiny. She  was  in  feeling  a  royalist.  She  detected  in  the 
eloquence  of  Tallien  a  powerful  instrument  by  which  she 
might  recall  her  countrymen  back  to  reason  and  human- 
ity. She  first  obtained  complete  control  over  the  mind 
and  soul  of  Tallien,  till  at  length  the  latter  idolized  her 
with  an  intensity  of  devotion  never  surpassed.  Then  it 
was  that  she  stirred  his  spirit  with  a  mighty  spell,  and  in- 
voking the  nobler  elements  of  his  nature,  led  him  to  the 
determination  to  attempt  the  delivering  of  his  country 
from  the  fell  power  of  a  bloody  tyrant,  or  to  perish  nobly 
in  the  attempt. 

On  the  26th  of  July,  (8th  Thermidor,)  Robespierre  de- 
livered a  speech  in  the  national  convention,  in  which  he 
made  charges  against  the  committee  of  general  safety, 
and  various  members  of  the  convention,  as  being  hostile 
to  liberty  and  to  the  complete  triumph  of  the  revolution. 
He  urged  the  abolition  of  the  committee  of  general  safety, 
and  the  concentration  of  all  power  into  the  hands  of  one 
person.  He  urged  the  convention  to  punish  with  death 
all  its  unworthy  members.  Here  was  a  demand  for  greater 
power,  and  for  more  blood  of  the  representatives  of  the 
people.  Robespierre  had  drawn  up  a  list  of  the  represen- 
tatives whom  he  proposed  to  immolate  on  his  bloody  al- 
tar. This  list  was  headed  by  the  name  of  Tallien,  and 
contained  the  names  of  Thurist,  Guffroi,  Bourdon  de  1'Oise, 
Legendre,  Vadier,  members  of  the  committee  of  general 


198  CONSPIRACY  AGAINST  ROBESPIERRE. 

safety,  and  many  more.  By  some  accident  Tallien  be- 
came aware  of  the  purpose  of  Robespierre,  and  of  his  own 
unenviable  prominence  on  the  fatal  catalogue.  He  saw 
that  it  was  now  time  to  strike  the  decisive  blow ;  and  he 
communicated  to  the  others  proscribed,  the  purposes  of 
Robespierre  concerning  themselves.  The  period  had 
now  arrived  for  the  occurrence  of  one  of  the  most  furi- 
ous and  deadly  conflicts  ever  displayed  in  a  deliberative 
assembly.  The  27th  of  July  at  length  dawned,  a  mem- 
orable day  in  French  history.  During  the  preceding 
night  the  conspirators  with  Tallien  at  their  head,  had 
held  a  long  and  secret  meeting,  in  which  they  had  ma- 
tured their  plans,  and  determined  on  the  course  to  be  pur- 
sued, to  overturn  the  power  of  the  tyrant.  When  the 
Assembly  met  the  next  day,  an  air  of  decision  and  desper- 
ate determination  marked  the  demeanor  of  the  represen- 
tatives, indicating  their  purpose  to  succeed  or  perish  in 
the  impending  struggle. 

At  one  o'clock,  St.  Just  ascended  the  tribune,  and  be- 
gan to  speak  upon  the  proposition  contained  in  the  ad- 
dress of  Robespierre  on  the  preceding  day.  "  I  belong," 
said  he,  "  to  no  party.  I  will  oppose  them  all.  This  trib- 
une may  become  a  Tarpeian  rock  to  me,  when  I  tell  you 
that  the  members  of  the  convention  have  wandered  from 
the  path  of  wisdom."  Here  Tallien,  determined  no  longer 
to  delay,  arose  and  interrupted  St.  Just.  "Shall  you," 
said  he,  "  arrogate  to  yourself  the  right  to  denounce,  ac- 
cuse, and  proscribe  the  members  of  this  assembly  ?  You 
are  but  the  satellite  of  a  tyrant,  who  yesterday  began  to 
raise  the  vail  before  our  eyes,  of  the  horrors  he  still  pro- 
poses to  perpetrate.  I  will  tear  that  vail  asunder,  and 


SPEECH  OF  TALLIEN.  199 

will  exhibit  the  danger  in  its  full  extent,  and  the  tyrant  in 
his  true  colors." 

Robespierre  had  taken  his  seat  opposite  the  tribune, 
determined  to  overawe  the  hostile  speakers  by  the  fierce- 
ness of  his  countenance.  But  when  the  clarion  tones  of 
Tallien's  eloquence  resounded  throughout  the  hall,  he  be- 
gan to  tremble,  and  his  face  became  deadly  pale.  He 
would  have  risen  to  interrupt  Tallien,  but  the  energy 
and  resolution  of  the  latter  were  indomitable.  He  then 
proceeded  to  describe  the  plans  of  blood  on  which  Robes- 
pierre had  determined.  "  The  massacre,"  said  he,  "  was 
to  have  begun  with  the  committees  of  public  safety  and 
general  security,  and  other  members  of  the  convention. 
Let  us  take  instant  measures  to  prevent  the  purposes  of 
the  assassins,  for  they  are  more  than  one.  I  will  name 
them.  First,  there  is  Dumas,  the  president  of  the  infa- 
mous revolutionary  tribunal.  There  is  Henriot,  the 
drunken  commander  of  the  National  Guards.  And  there 
is  Robespierre,  the  center  of  this  blood-thirsty  conspiracy, 
and  his  associates  in  the  committee  of  public  safety,  St. 
Just  and  Couthon.  Is  there  a  voice  among  you,  who  will 
not  declare  that  Robespierre  is  a  tyrant?  Tremble! 
wretch,  tremble !  "  said  he,  pointing  to  the  form  of  Robes- 
pierre which  then  shook  with  agitation  and  fury  before 
him.  "We  enjoy  your  agony ;  and  I  declare,  that  if  the 
convention  refuses  to  pass  the  decree  of  accusation  against 
you,  I  will  plunge  this  dagger  into  your  heart ; "  and  he 
drew  forth  the  glittering  blade,  and  brandished  it  before 
his  foe,  while  the  hall  resounded  with  the  acclamations  of 
the  deputies. 

Robespierre  attempted  in  vain,  during  the  loud  tumult 


200  ROBESPIERRE  ARRESTED. 

which  followed  this  outburst,  to  obtain  a  hearing  from  the 
convention.  The  president  of  that  body  was  his  personal 
foe ;  and  whenever  the  distracted  deputy  endeavored  to 
speak,  he  rang  his  bell  so  loudly  as  to  drown  his  shrieking 
voice.  In  vain  Robespierre  turned  from  one  side  of  the 
hall  to  the  other,  imploring  to  be  heard.  "  Pure  and  virtu- 
ous citizens,"  exclaimed  he,  "  will  you  not  permit  me  to 
speak?"  Finding  that  the  tumult  of  the  assembly  would 
not  be  calmed  by  the  use  of  persuasive  tones,  and  seeing 
their  determined  purpose  to  drown  his  utterance,  he  at 
length  screamed  at  the  top  of  his  voice :  "  President  of  as- 
sassins !  for  the  last  time  I  demand  to  speak ! "  The  tu- 
mult only  increased  ;  and  Robespierre  at  length  sank  down 
upon  his  seat  exhausted,  panting,  and  foaming  at  the  mouth. 
His  voice  was  gone,  and  he  in  vain  attempted  to  recover  his 
self-possession  and  his  utterance.  After  a  few  moments, 
the  eyes  of  the  exulting  assembly  being  still  fixed  upon  the 
exasperated  but  enfeebled  wretch,  a  voice  exclaimed,  "It 
is  the  blood  of  Danton  which  chokes  him !  "  And  then 
the  overthrown  but  unconquered  despot  uttered  one  of 
his  sudden  repartees,  which,  under  the  circumstances, 
is  one  of  the  finest  and  sublimest  things  recorded  in  his- 
tory :  "  Is  it  Danton  whom  you  would  avenge  ?  Wretches., 
why  then  did  you  not  dare  to  defend  him ! " 

Immediately  the  act  of  accusation  was  proposed  and 
carried.  Robespierre,  his  younger  brother,  Le  Bas,  St. 
Just,  Couthonr  Dumas,  and  Henriot,  were  put  under  ar- 
rest, and  sent  to  prison ;  and  the  assembly  adjourned  at 
five  o'clock. 

The  moral  dignity  and  grandeur  of  this  celebrated 
scene  were  certainly  of  a  high  character.  In  the  con- 


HIS  REMOVAL  TO  THE  HOTEL  DE  VILLE.         201 

mention  Robespierre  had  yet  many  ardent  adherents. 
The  terror  of  his  name  was  still  overpowering ;  he  pos- 
sessed the  prestige  of  his  past  immense  success ;  and  be- 
fore that  day,  to  have  seriously  opposed  any  measure 
which  emanated  from  him,  was  the  certain  death-warrant 
of  the  bold  adventurer.  But  on  this  occasion  for  the  first 
time,  the  will  of  the  blood-stained  dictator  was  directly  re- 
sisted ;  and  Tallien,  with  a  degree  of  heroism  deserving 
of  immortal  honor,  dared  not  only  to  oppose  but  to  stig- 
matize, to  accuse,  to  condemn  him.  And  then,  the  means 
employed  to  crush  the  will,  and  drown  the  eloquence  of 
Robespierre,  were  peculiar.  It  was  only  a  matter  of 
strength  of  lungs  between  one  feeble,  agitated,  scream- 
ing wretch,  and  five  hundred  vociferating  deputies ;  who, 
when  the  perilous  pathway  had  once  been  opened  by  their 
heroic  leader,  all  joined  with  hearty  good-will  in  defeat- 
ing and  baffling  the  attempts  of  the  fallen  tyrant  to  re- 
gain the  power  which  he  had  so  suddenly  lost.  Robes- 
pierre, it  must  be  confessed,  possessed  but  a  small  chance 
of  success  with  five  hundred  deputies  doing  their  best  to 
cough,  scream  and  roar  him  under ! 

No  sooner  however  had  the  magistrates  heard  that 
Robespierre  had  been  arrested,  than  they  sent  a  force  to 
Conciergerie  prison  to  release  him.  He  was  immediately 
conducted  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  where  he  found  his  broth- 
er, and  St.  Just.  They  were  received  by  the  magistrates 
with  acclamation. 

The  assembly  met  again  at  eight  o'clock  the  same  eve- 
ning, and  were  informed  of  the  release  of  the  prisoners. 
Terror  and  irresolution  for  a  few  moments  pervaded  the 

stoutest  hearts.     In  this  emergency,  Tallien  again   dia- 
I* 


202  TERROR  IN  PARIS. 

played  his  indomitable  heroism.  Said  he,  "  Everything 
conspires  to  secure  the  liberty  of  France.  Robespierre, 
by  resisting  the  decree  of  the  assembly  which  declared 
him  under  arrest,  has  placed  himself  hors  la  loi."  The  as- 
sembly instantly  decreed  that  Robespierre  and  his  asso- 
ciates were  opposing  the  government.  The  sections  were 
convoked,  and  Barras  placed  in  command  of  them.  The 
generate  beat.  The  sections  were  ordered  to  the  defense 
of  the  convention.  The  municipality  were  summoned  to 
their  bar.  A  message  was  sent  to  the  cannoniers  in  the 
Place  de  Carousal  to  attack  the  Hotel  de  Ville  where 
Robespierre  still  remained. 

The  rapid  adoption  of  these  measures  saved  the  lives, 
and  decided  the  fate  of  Tallien  and  his  party.  While 
their  execution  progressed,  all  Paris  was  in  a  state  of  the 
most  fearful  and  anxious  excitement.  On  every  side  the 
bewildered  multitude  hurried  to  and  fro,  uncertain  what 
to  do  or  what  to  believe.  The  solemn  tones  of  the  loud 
tocsin  resounded  through  the  heavy  air  of  night,  carrying 
terror  over  the  whole  capital,  and  far  beyond  the  barriers, 
through  the  adjoining  country.  The  hundreds  of  pro- 
scribed persons  who  had  been  long  concealed  in  the  hid- 
den recesses  of  Paris,  hearing  the  rumor  which  men  whis- 
pered with  pale  lips,  that  Robespierre  had  been  arrested, 
cautiously  crept  forth  from  their  secret  dens,  to  be  assured 
of  the  glorious  tidings.  Even  into  the  prisons  the  deep 
sounds  of  agitation  penetrated.  The  prisoners  knew  that 
Borne  great  crisis  was  transpiring  beyond  their  gloomy 
walls.  Then-  relatives  and  friends  approached  their  grated 
windows,  and  whispered  the  welcome  news  that  their 


ROBESPIERRE  ATTEMPTS  SUICIDE.  203 

great  butcher  was  at  length  shorn  of  his  power,  and  that 
they  might  yet  escape  his  deadly  fangs. 

Robespierre  and  his  party  still  remained  at  the  Hotel 
de  Yille,  hoping  that  the  arrival  of  the  National  Guards 
would  soon  put  an  end  to  the  doubtful  conflict ;  for  at 
their  head  he  had  determined  to  march  to  the  hostile  con- 
vention, disperse  them,  and  then  resume  the  reins  of 
power  which  had  fallen  from  his  grasp.  But  the  National 
Guards  had  been  won  over  by  the  active  agents  of  the 
convention,  and  did  not  advance  to  the  protection  and 
support  of  Robespierre.  Henriot,  descending  the  stairs 
of  the  hotel,  and  finding  the  square  in  front  deserted,  re- 
turned hi  despair  to  his  associates.  He  informed  them  of 
the  hopeless  posture  of  their  aifairs.  Here  was  the  turn- 
ing point  of  the  revolution.  At  this  moment  had  Robes- 
pierre possessed  resolution  sufficient  to  enable  him  to 
arouse  the  hesitating  attachment  of  the  National  Guards, 
the  cannoniers,  and  of  the  municipality,  he  might  yet  have 
succeeded  in  crushing  the  power  of  the  convention,  led  on 
by  Tallien,  and  still  divided  in  its  purpose. 

But  this  eloquent  and  pertinacious  orator,  Robespierre, 
was  devoid  of  the  energy  and  moral  courage  necessary  to 
this  great  crisis.  As  soon  as  Henriot  informed  him  that 
the  National  Guard  had  failed  to  march  to  the  Hotel  de 
Ville,  he  gave  himself  up  to  despair.  At  this  moment, 
determined  not  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  he 
discharged  his  pistol  at  his  head.  He  escaped  immediate 
death,  but  inflicted  a  frightful  wound  on  his  lower  jaw. 
Le  Bas  blew  out  his  own  brains.  Couthon  attempted  to 
stab  himself,  but  had  not  courage  to  accomplish  the  deed. 


204  HIS  EXECUTION. 

Coffinhal  and  the  younger  Robespierre  endeavored  to  es- 
cape by  the  window. 

The  bleeding  body  of  Robespierre  was  soon  dragged 
by  the  mob  to  the  assembly.  They  refused  to  admit  him ; 
he  was  then  conveyed,  together  with  Couthon,  to  the  hall 
of  the  committee  of  general  safety,  where  they  lay  for 
nine  hours,  their  wounds  still  bleeding,  stretched  upon  a 
table  on  which  they  had  signed  the  death  warrants  of 
thousands  of  their  victims.  From  this  spot,  on  the  next 
morning,  they  were  conveyed  to  the  revolutionary  tribu- 
nal, where,  with  a  rapidity  of  process  which  they  had 
themselves  so  often  used,  they  were  immediately  con- 
demned to  death. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  29th  of  July,  all  Paris  was 
hi  eager  motion,  to  witness  the  righteous  retribution 
about  to  be  inflicted  on  the  fallen  tyrant.  He  was  placed 
in  a  wagon  between  Henriot  and  Couthon,  and  com- 
menced that  dismal  journey  on  which  he  had  sent  so 
many  of  his  fellow  creatures,  in  the  prime  of  life  and  hope. 
Along  the  route  the  immense  multitude  gave  utterance 
to  their  joy  in  loud  shouts  of  exultation.  He  was  con- 
ducted to  the  Place  de  la  Revolution,  the  spot  on  which 
his  illustrious  victims,  Louis  XVI.  and  his  unfortunate 
queen,  had  expired.  When  the  bandage  which  confined 
his  broken  jaw  broke,  the  blood  overflowed  his  dress. 
Ere  he  reached  the  spot,  frantic  men  and  women,  ap- 
proaching the  wagon,  hurled  the  bitterest  curses  against 
him.  Said  one,  "  Murderer  of  all  my  kindred,  descend  to 
hell,  burdened  with  the  execrations  of  every  mother  hi 
France ! "  When  the  executioner  tore  off  the  bandage 
which  supported  his  jaw,  it  fell  to  the  ground ;  aud  he 


RESULTS  OF  THE  REIGN  OF  TERROR.  205 

uttered  a  yell,  which  filled  the  gazing  multitude  with  hor- 
ror. As  the  ax  descended  which  severed  from  its  body 
the  head  which  had  been  the  greatest  curse  which  ever 
afflicted  France,  the  shouts  and  exultation  of  the  vast 
multitude  shook  the  earth,  and  resounded  far  and  wide 
over  the  desolated  city. 

The  amount  of  misery  which  this  great,  bad  man  in- 
flicted on  his  unhappy  country,  during  the  several  years 
of  his  fatal  supremacy,  can  scarcely  be  computed.  Some 
idea  however  may  be  formed  from  the  actual  number  of 
executions  which  took  place  during  this  period  of  the 
revolution.  It  has  been  accurately  computed  by  Prud- 
homme,  that  there  were  slain  one  thousand  two  hundred 
and  seventy-eight  noblemen,  seven  hundred  and  fifty  no- 
ble women ;  of  wives  of  laborers  and  artisans  one  thou- 
sand four  hundred  and  sixty-seven ;  of  nuns,  three  hundred 
and  fifty ;  of  priests,  one  thousand  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
five  ;  of  common  people,  thirteen  thousand  six  hundred 
and  twenty-three.  Of  those  guillotined  by  the  revolu- 
tionary tribunals,  there  were  eighteen  thousand  six  hun- 
dred. Of  men  slain  in  La  Vendee,  there  were  nine  hun- 
dred thousand.  Of  the  victims  of  Carrier  at  Nantes,  there 
were  thirty-two  thousand.  Of  women  killed  in  La  Yen- 
dee,  there  were  fifteen  thousand ;  making  a  sum  total, 
including  a  few  other  items,  of  one  million  and  twenty- 
two  thousand  persons,  of  ah1  ranks  and  ages,  immolated 
on  the  bloody  altar  of  revolutionary  fury  and  violence. 
Such  were  the  terrific  consequences  of  the  perverted  tal- 
ents of  these  revolutionary  heroes. 

And  yet  it  is  related,  that  until  a  few  years  since  two 
maiden  sisters  of  Robespierre  survived  at  Paris,  living  in 


206  STATE  OF  FRANCE. 

genteel  retirement,  and  that  they  always  expressed  as- 
tonishment at  the  censure  and  execrations  which  were 
heaped  upon  the  head  of  their  brother  throughout  the 
civilized  world !  They  only  remembered  him  as  an  affec- 
tionate relative,  who  had  provided  for  their  wants  with 
fraternal  solicitude,  and  they  could  not  comprehend  how 
such  a  man  as  they  knew  their  brother  to  have  been, 
could  ever  display  qualities  so  savage  and  ferocious  as 
those  which  were  universally  ascribed  to  him.  It  was 
indeed  an  impressive  commentary  on  the  undying  strength 
of  a  sister's  attachment,  that  the  only  lips  which  ever  ut- 
tered words  of  esteem  or  regard  for  the  fallen  and  mur- 
derous Jacobin  throughout  all  the  world,  were  those  of 
the  two  persons  to  whom  we  have  just  referred ! 

When  the  head  of  Robespierre  and  his  associates  fell 
beneath  the  avenging  ax  of  the  guillotine,  they  left  France 
in  a  state  of  prostration,  poverty,  and  ruin,  of  which  the 
mind  can  scarcely  form  any  conception.  The  monthly 
expenses  of  the  revolutionary  government  had  been  three 
hundred  millions  of  francs.  The  receipts  of  the  treasury 
never  exceeded  one  third  of  this  sum.  The  only  possible 
mode  of  supplying  this  deficiency,  was  by  the  issue  of 
assignats,  or  paper-money ;  which  were  intended  to  pass 
at  par,  but  which  soon  fell  to  one-twentieth  of  its  nominal 
value.  The  losses  of  those  who  held  this  worthless 
scrip  may  readily  be  imagined.  The  whole  nation  be- 
came afflicted  with  a  grinding  poverty.  The  nobles  had 
all  been  despoiled  of  their  wealth ;  and  the  middle  classes 
were  oppressed  by  the  issue  and  depreciation  of  the  pa- 
per currency.  Excitement,  idleness,  and  debauchery  had 
rendered  the  lower  orders  more  impoverished  than  ever. 


PREVALENT  POVERTY.  207 

Hence  the  degree  of  wretchedness  which  existed  will  scarce- 
ly be  credited.  Even  the  highest  servants  of  the  govern- 
ment subsisted  on  the  most  trifling  pittances.  Picfiegru^ 
at  the  head  of  an  army  of  fifty  thousand  men,  received 
only  forty  dollars  per  month.  The  gifted  Hoche,  com- 
mander of  the  army  of  La  Vendee,  composed  of  one  hun- 
dred thousand  men,  wrote  to  the  convention  asking  them 
to  procure  him  a  horse,  as  he  was  utterly  without  means 
to  obtain  one.  And  if  such  was  the  state  of  destitution 
which  afflicted  men  of  the  highest  eminence  in  rank  and 
power,  how  much  more  desperate  must  have  been  the 
condition  of  the  multitudes  who  occupied  inferior  stations, 
both  in  the  public  service  and  in  private  life. 

Then  in  addition  to  these  pecuniary  distresses,  imagine 
a  whole  nation  clad  in  the  deepest  mourning,  for  the  mur- 
der of  a  million  of  its  noblest  and  best  citizens !  The 
country  was  covered  far  and  near  with  chateaux  sacked 
and  burned  ;  with  villages  desolated ;  with  crops  destroy- 
ed; with  all  the  implements  of  husbandry,  and  all  the  ma- 
terials for  manufactures,  lost  and  ruined.  It  must  surely 
be  admitted  that  if  ever,  in  the  blood-stained  history  of 
this  earth,  any  nation  presented  a  close  resemblance  to  all 
the  horrors  of  Pandemonium,  France,  once  the  land  of 
gay  revelry,  of  refinement,  and  of  distinction  in  art,  let- 
ters, and  every  form  of  elegance  and  magnificence,  pre- 
sented that  resemblance,  when  she  lay  agonizing  beneath 
the  deadly  fangs  of  the  demons  of  revolution,  debauchery 
and  infidelity. 

After  the  death  of  Robespierre  and  his  most  infamous 
accomplices,  the  convention  received  an  infusion  of  the 
friends  of  order  and  constitutional  government.  After 


208  ESTABLISHMENT  OF  THE  DIRECTORY. 

a  severe  struggle  a  new  constitution  was  prepared ;  and 
on  the  4th  of  October,  1795,  the  government  took  the 
form  of  two  representative  bodies  called  the  councils, 
together  with  an  executive  branch  consisting  of  five  per- 
sons denominated  the  directory.  The  officers  selected 
were  Moulin,  Gohier,  Sieves,  Barras,  and  Roger-Ducos. 
While  these  men  feebly  guided  the  destinies  of  France, 
the  meteor-star  of  Napoleon's  glory  suddenly  arose  on  the 
rugged  isle  of  Corsica ;  and  began  from  the  ensanguined 
plains  of  Italy  to  cast  abroad  its  bright  effulgence  over 
the  continent  of  Europe. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

NAPOLEON'S  EXPEDITION  TO  EGYPT. 

FROM  his  earliest  youth,  the  glowing  imagination  of 
Napoleon  had  been  haunted  by  the  brilliant  idea  of  es- 
tablishing anew  empire  in  the  east.  There  was  to  him  a 
nameless  grandeur  and  romance  in  the  project,  of  leaving 
behind  him  the  effete  and  worn  out  climes  of  Europe,  and 
invading  with  a  mighty  and  irresistible  armament,  those 
same  countries  which  had  witnessed,  two  thousand  years 
before,  the  triumphant  march  of  Alexander's  legions ;  and 
of  establishing  there  an  empire  as  magnificent  but  more 
durable  than  his.  There  was  a  novelty  and  glory  in  the 
idea  of  a  bold  and  gifted  adventurer  from  the  west,  such 
as  himself,  of  advancing  as  a  conqueror  without  an  invita- 
tion or  a  warning  through  the  remote  and  unique  climes 
of  the  east ;  and  his  mind  glowed  with  a  new  rapture  at 
the  thought  of  erecting  on  the  ruins  of  crumbling  oriental 
dynasties,  a  throne  of  stupendous  majesty  and  power, 
which  would  not  only  surpass  those  of  all  other  eastern 
potentates,  but  also  one  which  would  extort*  the  admira- 
tion of  the  monarchs  of  Europe  itself. 

Of  all  the  countries  of  the  east,  Egypt  was  on  many  ac- 
counts the  most  important  and  suitable,  as  an  incipient 
conquest.  It  was  an  immense  country,  possessed  of  vast 
resources.  It  was  still  a  dependency  on  the  feeble  crumb- 
ling scepter  of  the  sultan.  It  was  the  highway  of  Eng- 

14 


210  NAPOLEON'S  BRILLIANT  CONCEPTIONS. 

land,  Holland,  and  other  great  commercial  communities 
of  Europe,  to  their  rich  possessions  in  the  east.  It  was  a 
central  country  from  which,  having  made  a  triumphant 
beginning  to  his  vast  career  of  conquest,  he  could  extend 
his  power  to  Abyssinia,  to  Arabia,  to  Persia,  and  other 
neighboring  countries.  His  majestic  and  powerful  fleets 
could  ride  securely  on  the  Nile;  whose  broad  bosom 
would  be  covered,  by  his  means,  with  the  rich  commerce 
of  the  world.  The  waters  of  the  Mediterranean  would 
waft  to  his  dominions  the  luxuries  and  polished  products 
of  the  west.  The  Red  Sea  would  form  a  convenient  chan- 
nel through  which  he  could  secure  the  rich  and  rare  com- 
modities of  the  farther  east — of  China  and  the  Indies. 
The  Grand  Cairo  would  form  a  capital  whose  magnifi- 
cence and  extent,  whose  gorgeous  palaces  and  luxuriant 
gardens  would  be  worthy  of  so  great  and  powerful  an 
empire ;  while  Alexandria,  renovated  by  him  from  the 
crumbling  decrepitude  of  ages,  would  regain  her  pristine 
splendor,  and  become  a  fit  sea-port  for  an  empire  to 
which  the  commerce,  the  arts,  refinement,  and  luxury  of 
the  world  had,  by  so  sudden,  yet  so  potent  a  charm,  been 
irresistibly  attracted. 

Such  were  some  of  the  brilliant  phantasies  which 
glowed  in  the  ardent  mind  of  Napoleon.  After  his  suc- 
cessful care'er  in  Italy  he  returned  to  Paris,  and  was  re- 
ceived by  the  directory  in  the  Luxembourg  palace,  with 
great  state  and  splendor.  The  colors  taken  from  the 
Austrians  in  Italy  were  presented  by  him  to  the  directory, 
together  with  a  copy  of  the  treaty  of  Campo  Formio, 
in  which  the  most  humiliating  concessions  had  been  made 
by  Austria  to  France.  After  bis  return,  however,  Na- 


THE  DESCENT  ON  ENGLAND.  211 

poleon's  mind  was  not  unoccupied,  though  he  was  not 
engaged  in  any  public  trust.  His  brilliant  victories  in 
Italy  had  already  won  him  an  European  reputation,  and 
he  was  balancing  in  his  restless  and  sagacious  mind  the 
course  which  it  behooved  him  next  to  pursue. 

To  remain  long  idle  in  Paris  was  not  in  the  nature  of 
Bonaparte.  Besides,  he  had  now  become  so  powerful, 
that  he  was  already  an  object  of  jealousy  to  the  directory. 
If  he  aspired  to  a  place  with  them  in  the  government,  they 
knew  that  he  would  soon  become  absolute  ruler,  and 
they  absolute  cyphers.  If  he  did  not  obtain  a  seat  in  the 
directory,  they  feared,  and  with  justice,  that  he  would  be- 
come the  center  of  all  the  discontented  intriguers  and  ad- 
venturers in  the  capital,  and  might  soon  ascend  to  the  pos- 
session of  power  over  their  ruins.  In  either  case,  to  per- 
mit Napoleon  to  remain  long  unoccupied  at  Paris  was 
the  presage  of  ruin  to  the  directory.  Hence  it  was  that 
in  January,  1798,  at  the  suggestion  of  Barras  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  command  of  the  army  of  England.  But 
after  carefully  examining  the  coasts  of  the  British  chan- 
nel on  both  sides,  he  came  to  the  sagacious  conclusion, 
that  the  time  for  the  invasion  of  England  had  not  yet 
arrived.  Accordingly,  he  declined  the  appointment 
\vhichhad  been  tendered  him.  His  mind  again  reverted 
to  his  schemes  of  oriental  conquest ;  and  after  a  short  in- 
terval he  persuaded  the  directory  to  appropriate  the 
armament  intended  for  the  descent  upon  England  to  the 
expedition  to  the  east.  The  principal  motive  which  in- 
duced Barras  and  the  directory  to  acquiesce  in  a  project 
which  to  their  short-sighted  vision  appeared  chimerical  in 
the  extreme,  was  the  same  prudent  wish  to  get  rid  of  the 


212  NAPOLEON'S  PREPARATIONS. 

insatiable  ambition  and  the  dangerous  popularity  of  the 
conqueror  of  Italy.  They  indulged  the  secret  hope  that 
both  of  these  would  find  an  early  and  a  nameless  grave 
beneath  the  treacherous  and  shifting  sands  of  Lybia. 

The  preparations  made  by  Napoleon  for  this  memora- 
ble expedition,  were  on  a  large  and  magnificent  scale.  He 
obtained  from  the  directory  the  appropriation  of  forty 
thousand  of  the  best  troops  of  the  army  of  Italy.  The 
fleet  of  Admiral  Bruyes,  composed  of  thirteen  ships  of 
the  line  and  fourteen  frigates,  was  placed  under  his  or- 
ders. Three  millions  of  francs  which  had  been  seized  by 
the  directory  at  Berne — the  ancient  and  long  accumulated 
treasure  of  that  republic,  the  product  of  Swiss  industry 
and  economy  for  two  hundred  years — was  granted  for 
the  purpose  of  defraying  the  expenses  of  the  expedition. 
To  the  possession  of  this  cherished  store  of  the  Bernese 
republicans,  the  directory  had  no  other  claim,  whatever, 
than  the  claim  of  the  stronger  over  the  weaker,  of  the 
triumphant  over  the  defenseless. 

It  was  on  the  19th  of  May,  1798,  that  the  French  fleet 
set  sail  from  the  port  of  Toulon.  This  magnificent  arma- 
ment had  been  considerably  augmented  by  the  indefati- 
gable exertions  of  Napoleon.  It  now  consisted  of  thir- 
teen ships  of  the  line,  sixteen  frigates,  seventy-two  brigs, 
and  four  hundred  transports.  It  carried  thirty-six  thou- 
sand soldiers  of  every  description,  and  ten  thousand  sail- 
ors. Napoleon  sailed  first  to  Ajaccio,  and  Civita  Cas- 
tellana,  and  there  united  with  his  fleet  the  squadrons  then 
cruising  in  those  ports.  With  his  force  thus  increased, 
he  set  sail  for  Malta;  and  on  the  10th  of  June  he  hove 
in  sight  of  the  imposing  and  magnificent  works  of  that 


THE  KNIGHTS  OF  MALTA.  213 

celebrated  fortress  which  extended  for  several  miles  along 
the  horizon,  presenting  a  front  of  vast  extent  and  mag- 
nitude. 

It  was  Napoleon's  purpose  to  storm  tie  fortifications  ; 
but  the  necessity  for  hostile  measures  was  obviated  by  the 
successful  intrigues  which  he  had  for  some  time  past  been 
carrying  on  with  the  grand  master  and  the  leading 
knights  of  the  order  of  St.  John.  Baron  Hompesch,  the 
grand  master,  after  considerable  secret  negotiation  with 
Napoleon,  had  stipulated  that  he  would  surrender  the 
fortress,  on  condition  that  he  should  receive  six  hundred 
thousand  francs,  a  principality  in  Germany,  or  a  pension 
for  life  of  three  hundred  thousand  francs ;  and  that  the 
French  cavaliers  should  receive  a  pension  of  seven  hun- 
dred francs  a  year  each,  for  life.  On  these  ignoble  terms 
this  ancient  fortress,  so  ren  owned  in  the  history  of  Chris- 
tian warfare  and  chivalry,  was  surrendered ;  with  the  pos- 
session of  all  its  vast  bulwarks,  splendid  churches,  magnif- 
icent palaces,  and  the  treasures  of  plate  and  munitions  of 
war,  which  the  noble  knights  of  previous  ages  had  secured 
and  erected  as  the  fruit  of  many  memorable  achievements 
of  heroism  and  fortitude. 

Napoleon  gazed  with  rapture  on  the  innumerable  forti- 
fications which  he  had  so  easily  won.  The  luxury  and 
splendor  of  the  palaces  which  the  successive  grand  mas- 
ters had  erected,  filled  him  and  his  officers  with  admira- 
tion and  astonishment.  So  deep  was  the  harbor,  that  the 
L'Orient,  a  vessel  so  immensely  large  that  it  had  ground- 
ed on  leaving  the  port  of  Toulon,  sailed  up  without  ob- 
struction to  the  very  quay ;  and  its  extent  was  so  great, 
that  six  hundred  ships  of  the  line  could  securely  and  con- 


214  CAPTURE  OF  ALEXANDRIA. 

veniently  ride  within  it.  Napoleon  strongly  manned  all 
the  batteries  with  detachments  of  his  own  troops ;  and  on 
the  19th  of  June  set  sail  for  the  coast  of  Egypt. 

On  the  1st  of  July  the  French  fleet  came  in  sight  of 
the  low  coast  of  that  country.  Napoleon  narrowly  es- 
caped the  English  fleet  under  Lord  Nelson,  which  had 
been  scouring  the  seas  for  some  weeks,  in  eager  search  of 
him.  The  English  fleet  had  only  deserted  the  roads  two 
days  before  the  arrival  of  the  French  armament ;  and  it  is 
certain,  that  if  the  hero  of  Trafalgar  had  then  fallen  in 
with  the  object  of  his  pursuit,  a  furious  battle  would  have 
ensued,  which  would  materially  have  altered  the  fortunes 
of  the  world.  The  English  commander  would  undoubted- 
ly have  achieved  a  signal  victory,  because  his  force  was 
superior  to  that  of  the  French,  and  the  latter  were  en- 
cumbered with  the  vast  number  of  land  troops  which  the 
fleet  was  conveying  to  Egypt.  The  sea  would  have  been 
strewed  with  wrecks  of  the  French  fleet ;  thousands  would 
have  found  a  watery  grave ;  and  this  bold  and  wonderful 
expedition  would  have  had  a  premature  and  an  inglorious 
termination. 

But  a  more  brilliant  fate  was  reserved  for  the  adven- 
turous Corsican.  Exulting  in  the  narrow  escape  which 
he  had  just  made,  he  ordered  his  troops  instantly  to  dis- 
embark. Early  the  next  day  he  advanced  at  the  head  of 
five  thousand  men  and  attacked  the  ramparts  of  the  city 
of  Alexandria,  which  were  defended  by  an  insufficient 
number  of  Mamelukes.  After  a  short  conflict  the  latter 
were  driven  from  their  posts ;  the  gates  were  opened,  and 
the  French  troops  entered  on  their  first  conquest  in  Egypt. 
They  found  the  city,  which  the  mighty  Alexander  had 


THE  STATE  OF  THAT  CITY.  215 

founded,  a  confused  mass  of  magnificence  and  ruin.  Yet 
as  a  presage  of  future  triumph,  its  subjugation  was  an 
event  of  great  importance.  The  invaders  were  quartered 
in  the  city,  which  they  found  already  impoverished  and 
reduced  by  misfortunes  and  grinding  exactions,  to  a  most 
lamentable  degree.  The  harbor  which  was  situated  in 
one  of  the  mouths  of  the  Nile,  was  nearly  choked  up  with 
sand.  No  ships  could  now  approach  the  spot  where  once 
all  the  navies  of  the  world  could  easily  and  securely  ride 
at  anchor.  The  city  was  ruled  by  the  Mamelukes,  a  body 
of  Turkish  soldiers,  who  had  been  sent  by  the  sultan  to 
exercise  civil  and  military  authority  over  the  abject  and 
feeble  Egyptians.  The  Mamelukes  themselves  were  un- 
der the  authority  of  their  Beys,  officers  conferred  directly 
by  the  sultan. 

Having  garrisoned  the  works  of  Alexandria  with  as 
many  of  his  own  troops  as  were  necessary  for  its  defense, 
Napoleon  determined  immediately  to  advance  into  the 
interior  of  the  country.  The  grand  Cairo,  the  ancient 
capital  of  Egypt,  was  the  next  object  of  the  invader's  am- 
bition ;  and  he  resolved  instantly  to  commence  the 
perilous  march  across  the  desert  to  reach  it. 

From  Alexandria  to  Cairo  the  pathway  lay  across  the 
treacherous  sands  of  a  sterile  waste,  some  three  hundred 
miles  in  extent.  This  boundless  plain  of  sand  was  cheered 
and  relieved  neither  by  shade  nor  water ;  for  no  tree  or 
bush  could  draw  subsistence  from  the  barren  soil,  and  the 
few  wells  which  existed  had  been  filled  up  by  the  Bedow- 
ins,  the  untamed  children  of  the  desert.  A  tropical  sun 
poured  down  its  burning  rays  on  the  troops,  and  scorched 
and  seared  every  li ving  thing.  The  fine,  light  sands  came 


216  THE  MARCH  IN  THE  DESERT. 

floating  along  in  clouds  over  the  plain,  and  filled  the  eyes 
and  mouths  of  the  parched  and  thirsty  travelers.  The 
hostile  Arabs  hovered  around  the  advancing  columns,  and 
harassed  them  with  unceasing  attacks.  Every  now  and 
then,  the  exhausted  troops  were  cheered  by  a  delicious 
vision  hi  the  far  distance,  of  a  calm  and  refreshing  lake, 
reposing  on  the  bosom  of  the  wilderness.  They  shouted 
for  joy,  and  rapidly  advanced  to  plunge  into  its  cooling 
and  invigorating  waters.  They  approached  the  spot,  and 
found  that  they  had  been  deceived  by  the  mirage  of  the 
desert ;  and  disappointment  and  deep  despair  began  to 
overwhelm  the  spirits  of  the  most  daring  and  intrepid. 

It  would  require  at  least  a  week  for  the  French  army 
to  pass  through  the  desert;  and  already  on  the  third 
day,  the  most  horrible  disasters  had  befallen  them.  Their 
sufferings  from  thirst  had  already  become  unendurable. 
Hundreds  of  men,  horses,  and  camels  had  perished  by  the 
way,  from  want  of  water.  Even  the  intrepid  Lannes  and 
Murat  threw  themselves  on  the  ground,  and  rolled  upon 
it  in  paroxysms  of  despair.  The  drifting  sands  destroyed 
the  eyesight  of  hundreds  of  the  soldiers.  Their  eyeballs 
rotted  and  fell  out.  Desaix,  who  commanded  the  van- 
guard, sent  a  courier  to  Napoleon  in  the  rear,  declaring 
that  if  the  army  did  not  hasten  forward  with  the  utmost 
rapidity,  it  would  perish.  "  The  whole  desert,"  said  he, 
"  does  not  contain  water  enough  for  a  thousand  men,  and 
we  are  thirty  thousand.  For  heaven's  sake  do  not  leave 
us  in  this  situation,  but  give  the  order  either  to  retire 
rapidly  or  to  advance.  I  am  in  despair,  at  being  com- 
pelled to  write  to  you  in  the  language  of  desponden  cy ; 


THE  NILE.  217 

but  when  we  have  escaped  our  present  horrible  position, 
I  hope  my  usual  firmness  will  return." 

At  length,  after  a  march  of  a  week  marked  by  the  most 
norrible  sufferings,  and  by  considerable  losses,  the  parched 
and  wearied  army  arrived  in  sight  of  the  wished-for  Nile, 
and  beheld  its  bright,  silver  stream  rolling  sluggishly 
along  before  them,  glittering  on  the  bosom  of  the  desert. 
The  ranks  were  immediately  broken,  and  the  tumultuous 
crowd  rushed  with  rapture  to  the  banks  of  the  river,  to 
quench  their  burning  thirst.  Many  even  threw  them- 
selves into  the  cool  and  flowing  flood,  and  all  forgot,  in 
the  gratification  of  the  present  moment,  the  mortal  ago- 
nies of  the  past. 

After  resting  for  several  days  on  the  welcome  banks 
of  the  river,  the  French  army  resumed  its  march  along 
the  stream  toward  Cairo.  For  seven  days  the  journey 
continued.  The  troops  passed  through  a  deserted  coun- 
try, from  which  all  the  inhabitants  had  fled  in  terror.  At 
length,  on  the  21st  of  July,  Napoleon,  riding  at  the  head 
of  his  columns,  first  beheld  with  rapture  the  distant  sum- 
mits of  the  mighty  pyramids,  and  not  far  off,  the  glitter- 
ing minarets  of  the  capital  of  Egypt. 

To  resist  the  approach  of  the  invaders,  Mourad  Bey,  at 
that  time  governor  of  Egypt  under  the  Porte,  had  col- 
lected together  all  his  best  troops,  consisting  of  eight  thou- 
sand Mameluke  cavalry — the  most  splendid  and  effective 
La  the  world — together  with  ten  thousand  Arabs,  Copts, 
and  Fellaks.  His  camp  on  the  bank  of  the  Nile  was  de- 
fended by  forty  pieces  of  artillery.  It  was  also  protected 
by  rude  field-works  ;  and  the  force  thus  opposed  to  the 
French  army  was  altogether  the  most  formidable  which 


218  THE  PYRAMIDS. 

had  been  mustered  in  Egypt  for  many  years.  His  army 
was  already  drawn  out  on  the  plain  in  battle  array,  to 
oppose  the  further  advance  of  the  French. 

Napoleon  immediately  made  his  dispositions  for 'the 
battle.  He  formed  his  columns  into  hollow  squares,  and 
advanced'to  the  attack.  It  was  an  anxious  moment.  In 
a  far  distant  clime,  a  few  adventurers  were  now  about, 
for  the  first  time,  to  meet  a  formidable  foe.  Defeat  would 
be  synonymous  with  destruction.  Napoleon  in  a  few 
words  eloquently  harangued  his  troops.  Pointing  to- 
ward the  pyramids,  whose  vast  summits  loomed  far  up 
solemnly  and  sublimely  into  the  clear,  azure  heavens  be- 
fore them,  he  said,  "Remember,  that  from  the  top  of 
those  pyramids  forty  centuries  contemplate  your  conduct 
in  this  battle !  " 

Mourad  Bey,  perceiving  that  the  French  had  formed  in 
order  of  battle,  and  were  slowly  advancing,  detached  his 
eight  thousand  Mameluke  cavalry  from  the  rest,  and  ap- 
proached the  hostile  squares  at  the  height  of  their  speed. 
These  troops  presented  an  imposing  and  magnificent  ap- 
pearance. They  were  splendidly  accoutred,  and  the  har- 
ness of  their  powerful  horses  glittered  with  silver  mount- 
ings. The  beys  were  all  around  with  cimeters  and  pis- 
tols; and  as  their  long  line  rapidly  advanced  over  the 
plain,  the  earth  shook  beneath  their  heavy  tread;  and 
the  shock  which  ensued,  when  they  clashed  with  the  ad- 
vancing columns  of  the  French,  was  prodigious.  At  the 
first  collision  several  of  the  squares  of  the  latter  were 
broken.  But  they  were  soon  reformed  again,  and  the 
rolling  fire  of  their  musketry  did  tremendous  execution 
among  the  serried  ranks  of  the  Egyptian  cavalry.  The 


BATTLE  OF  THE  PYRAMIDS.  219 

latter,  in  their  desperation,  exerted  themselves  to  break 
the  solid  squares  of  the  French ;  but  in  vain.  Slowly  they 
rode  around  them,  and  whenever  they  could  perceive  the 
slightest  chasm,  they  attempted  to  dash  in  and  penetrate. 
These  few,  more  successful  than  the  rest,  soon  were  dis- 
patched, and  the  squares  again  closed  over  and  around 
their  prostrate  bodies.  Again  and  again  they  dashed 
their  horses  against  those  ramparts  of  steel,  but  could  not 
break  them ;  and  they  gradually  wasted  away  beneath 
the  flaming  walls  of  unremitting  fire,  upon  whose  deadly 
and  immovable  front  they  could  make  no  impression. 

After  an  hour's  hard  fighting,  the  Mamelukes  began  to 
discover  the  hopelessness  of  their  endeavors  to  produce 
any  effect  whatever  upon  the  squares  of  the  French,  and 
panic  began  to  spread  through  their  ranks.  Several  thou- 
sand were  already  slain,  and  at  length  the  rest  took  to 
flight.  They  retreated  toward  the  pyramids.  The  French, 
adroitly  extending  their  squares  like  a  fan,  pursued  them. 
They  attacked  the  entrenched  camp,  and  soon  the  works, 
together  with  all  the  ammunition  and  baggage  of  the 
Mamelukes,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  French.  Seeing  the 
total  rout  of  his  army,  Mourad  Bey  fled  with  the  remains 
of  his  once  formidable  cavalry  across  the  desert  into  Up- 
per Egypt,  and  the  proud  conqueror  of  the  "  Battle  of 
the  Pyramids,"  entered  Cairo,  and  quartered  his  troops 
in  its  sumptuous  palaces  without  the  least  resistance. 

Plunged  into  the  great  vortex  of  oriental  luxury  in  the 
capital  of  Egypt,  the  French  army  for  a  short  time  seemed 
to  have  realized  their  most  romantic  dreams  ;  wflile  Bona- 
parte, in  swaying  the  scepter  of  the  ancient  Ptolemies,  for 
a  moment  may  have  imagined  that  his  ambitious  projects 


220  NAPOLEON  REIGNS  IN  CAIRO. 

in  the  east  were  about  to  be  accomplished.  He  endeav- 
ored to  obtain  the  confidence  of  the  inhabitants  of  Cairo, 
by  joining  with  them  in  their  religious  ceremonies.  He 
permitted  the  imans  still  to  administer  justice  as  before. 
He  disturbed  none  of  the  municipal  arrangements  of  the 
city.  He  only  held  with  a  firm  hand  the  reins  of  politi- 
cal authority.  The  consequence  was  that  the  Egyptians, 
for  the  first  time  in  their  lives,  enjoyed  the  advantages  of 
a  regular  and  impartial  government ;  and  soon  the  evi- 
dent benefits  which  resulted  from  the  presence  and  su- 
premacy of  the  invaders,  made  the  vanquished  hug  and 
cherish  the  chains  which  bound  them. 

But  after  a  short  time  spent  in  the  full  enjoyment  of 
the  novel  luxuries  and  pleasures  of  the  Egyptian  capital, 
the  French  troops  began  to  weary  of  them.  The  monoto- 
ny of  eastern  life  soon  commenced  to  pall  upon  their 
senses,  and  they  felt  an  irresistible  inclination  to  return 
to  their  home  in  the  west.  Even  the  project  of  further 
conquest  in  the  east  had  lost  all  its  charms  for  them. 
They  had  secured  and  enjoyed  the  richest  conquest  which 
that  whole  hemisphere  contained ;  and  of  it  they  had  al- 
ready become  satiated  and  'disgusted.  At  length  the 
disaiFection  become  so  great,  that  Napoleon  threatened 
to  shoot  any  one,  officer  or  private,  who  would  dare  to 
Bpeak  to  him  in  reference  to  the  project  of  abandoning 
the  expedition. 

On  the  first  of  August,  1798,  was  fought  the  celebrated 
battle  of  the  Nile,  between  the  fleets  of  France  and  Eng- 
land— a  battle  so  disastrous  to  the  power  and  supremacy 
of  France  in  the  east.  The  number  of  vessels  in  each 
fleet  was  about  equal.  Nelson  commanded  on  board  his 


BATTLE  OF  THE  NILE.  221 

vessels  ten  thousand  men  and  ten  hundred  and  twelve 
guns.  The  French  admiral,  Bruyes,  had  eleven  thousand 
men  and  eleven  hundred  and  ninety-six  guns.  The  Brit- 
ish ships  were  all  seventy-fours,  while  several  of  those  of 
the  French  were  much  heavier,  some  carrying  eighty 
guns,  some  one  hundred  and  one — -the  celebrated  flag-ship, 
the  L'Orient,  one  hundred  and  twenty  guns.  The  French 
fleet  lay  at  anchor  in  the  bay  of  Aboukir,  admirably  dis- 
posed in  line  of  battle,  in  front  of  the  harbor  of  Alexan- 
dria, which  they  had  been  unable  to  enter  in  consequence 
of  the  shoals  of  sand  which  obstructed  its  mouth.  Nel- 
son, having  reconnoitred  the  position  of  his  foe,  deter- 
mined to  force  his  way  through  his  line,  and  thus  double 
his  whole  fleet  around  a  part  of  the  line  of  the  French 
ships.  The  advantage  gained  by  this  novel  and  sagacious 
device  was  evinced  by  the  issue  of  the  battle. 

This  memorable  conflict  began  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon.  The  shores  of  the  bay  were  covered  with 
thousands  of  Arabs  and  Egyptians,  who  beheld  with  awe 
and  wonder  the  horrible  havoc,  and  the  prodigious  skill 
and  fortitude  displayed  by  the  two  foremost  nations  of 
the  world,  in  a  great  conflict  which  all  felt  would  be  deci- 
sive and  memorable  in  the  history  of  their  own  country, 
and  in  that  of  the  powerful  and  bold  invaders  who  had  so 
suddenly  appeared  in  their  midst.  The  combatants  them- 
selves were  fully  conscious  .of  the  vast  importance  of  the 
occasion.  Nelson  had  been  scouring  the  seas  in  pursuit 
of  the  French  fleet  ever  since  the  surrender  of  Malta. 
For  days  he  had  neither  eaten  nor  slept.  At  length,  when 
he  saw  the  object  of  his  search  advantageously  anchored 
in  line  of  battle,  his  exultation  was  extreme,  and  he  in- 


222  SUBLIMITY  OF  THE  SCENE. 

stantly  gave  the  signal  for  action.  The  French  on  theii 
side  were  equally  ready  and  eager  for  the  conflict.  They 
had  waited  long,  in  a  state  of  inactivity,  for  the  decisive 
moment  to  arrive  ;  and  the  vast  size  of  their  vessels,  and 
their  advantageous  position,  led  them  to  indulge  in  the 
hope  of  certain  victory.  Their  admiral,  Bruyes,  was  the 
most  experienced  and  distinguished  seaman  of  whom 
their  country  could  boast,  and  every  circumstance  con- 
spired to  give  them  confidence. 

As  the  English  ships,  the  Leander,  the  Culloden,  the 
Alexander,  and  the  Swiftsure,  passed  within  the  line  of 
the  French  vessels,  they  suffered  severely  from  the  tre- 
mendous raking  fire  of  the  French ;  but  no  sooner  had 
they  taken  up  their  positions — one  vessel  on  the  outer 
bow,  and  another  on  the  outer  quarter  of  the  French 
ships — than  the  tide  of  conquest  began  to  turn.  The  con- 
flict was  tremendous.  The  combatants  fought  with  des- 
perate courage;  and  seemed  determined  to  end  the  con- 
flict only  with  victory  or  death.  The  scene  was  fearfully 
sublime.  When  the  darkness  of  evening  settled  down 
over  the  contending  fleets,  the  horizon  was  illuminated 
for  many  miles  by  the  incessant  discharge  of  two  thousand 
pieces  of  artillery,  and  the  earth  and  ocean  shook  with 
the  prodigious  concussion.  The  vast  sea  of  blazing  fire 
appeared  like  some  fierce  volcano,  whose  mouth  belched 
forth  an  ocean  of  flame  in  the  midst  of  the  watery  waste. 

At  length,  by  nine  o'clock,  the  English  had  obtained  a 
complete  and  unparalleled  victory.  About  that  time  the 
L'Orient,  a  vast  ship  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  guns, 
which  carried  the  French  admiral,  was  found  to  be  on  fire, 
and  soon  the  flames  extended  beyond  the  possibility  of 


EXPLOSION  OF  THE  L'ORIENT.  223 

their  being  subdued.  As  the  fire  approached  the  magazine, 
many  of  the  sailors  and  officers  fled  from  the  ship ;  but 
her  commander  determined  to  die  the  death  of  the  heroic 
and  unconquerable  ;  and  remained  on  board.  At  length, 
at  ten  o'clock  the  explosion  took  place.  The  concussion 
was  terrific — without  a  parallel  in  ancient  or  modern  war- 
fare. The  earth  and  sea  shook  for  miles  around,  and  soon 
after,  the  burning  fragments  of  the  unfortunate  vessel  fell 
from  the  prodigious  height  to  which  they  had  been  car 
ried,  far  and  wide  over  the  fleets.  The  sea  was  now  cov- 
ered with  the  floating,  burning,  and  shattered  wrecks  of 
the  French  ships ;  and  when  daylight  dawned  upon  the 
horrid  scene,  a  spectable  was  presented  which  has  no  par- 
allel in  naval  history.  Not  a  single  ship  except  two  re- 
mained in  the  possession  of  the  French,  of  all  that  vast 
and  imposing  armament,  which  on  the  day  before  had 
defied  the  world,  and  rode  triumphantly  upon  the  wave. 
/.The  Guillaume  Tell  and  the  Generaux  alone  escaped,  to 
carry  back  to  France  the  dreadful  story  of  this  unequaled 
and  memorable  disaster.  All  the  other  ships  of  the 
French  fleet  fell  into  the  possession  of  the  English ;  ex- 
cept the  L'Orient  and  La  Serieuse,  which  had  sunk.  Eight 
thousand  of  the  French  troops  had  been  wounded  or  slain. 
Admiral  Bruyes  perished  with  his  vessel.  For  twelve 
miles  the  shore  was  covered  with  fragments  of  the  wrecks, 
and  the  surface  of  the  sea  was  filled  with  the  floating  bod- 
ies of  the  dead.  The  commanders  of  all  the  French  ves- 
sels had  been  either  killed  or  wounded.  The  English  had 
lost  but  nine  hundred  men  in  killed  and  wounded,  in  that 
dreadful  conflict. 
This  battle  was  the  death-blow  to  French  conquest  in 


224  RIOT  IN  CARIO. 

the  east.  Napoleon  heard  the  disastrous  news  at  Cairo, 
and  for  a  moment,  even  his  daring  and  desperate  courage 
was  appalled  and  overpowered  by  the  magnitude  of  the 
disaster.  Despair  completely  prostrated  the  minds  of 
the  French  soldiers,  and  with  the  impulsive  ardor  of  their 
nation,  many  blew  out  their  brains,  and  others  threw 
themselves  into  the  Nile.  The  troops  now  saw  that  their 
only  means  of  transport  to  their  native  land  had  been 
taken  away  from  them ;  and  they  felt  as  if  doomed  to  die 
in  a  strange  land,  eternal  exiles  from  the  homes  which 
they  now  loved  the  more  intensely,  as  the  prospect  of  re- 
turning to  them  became  the  more  remote  and  uncertain. 

Disasters  accumulated  around  the  unfortunate  invaders. 
Immediately  on  receiving  intelligence  of  the  battle  of  the 
Nile,  the  sultan  formally  declared  war  against  France. 
At  the  same  time,  an  insurrection  against  the  French  oc- 
curred in  the  streets  of  Cairo.  The  Turks  took  refuge  in 
the  mosques  against  the  forces  ordered  out  by  Napoleon 
to  suppress  the  riot ;  and  some  of  these  sacred  edifices 
were  assaulted  and  battered  to  the  ground.  After  five 
thousand  of  the  inhabitants  had  been  slain,  order  and  peace 
was  again  restored. 

It  was  not  difficult  for  a  man  of  Napoleon's  sagacity 
to  discover,  that  the  only  means  of  counteracting  the  effect 
of  all  these  disasters,  of  saving  himself  from  disgrace,  and 
his  army  from  ruin,  was  to  commence  active  operations 
on  the  offensive,  and  by  some  new  and  bold  conquest 
again  to  overawe  the  vacillating  inhabitants  of  the  east. 
Accordingly,  he  ordered  Desaix  to  march  with  a  strong 
detachment  of  troops  into  Upper  Egypt,  and  there  pursue 
and  attack  the  broken  remains  of  Mourad  Bey's  troops. 


INVASION  OF  STRIA.  225 

On  the  7th  of  October  Desaix  with  twenty-five  hundred 
men  attacked  the  Turks  at  Sidiman,  numbering  four  thou- 
sand Mamelukes  and  six  thousand  Fellahs,  and  again  the 
hollow  squares  into  which  the  French  were  formed,  defied 
the  fiercest  assaults  of  the  heavy  cavalry,  and  at  the  same 
time  mowed  down,  with  their  continuous  rolling  fire, 
the  serried  ranks  of  their  assailants.  The  Egyptians  and 
Turks  were  again  defeated  with  great  slaughter ;  and  the 
battle  was  decisive  of  the  future  fate  of  Upper  Egypt. 
The  French  advanced  through  the  rich  country,  until  at 
last  they  rested  in  triumph  beneath  the  shade  of  the 
stupendous  ruins  of  Luxor,  and  of  the  mighty  sphinxes 
and  sepulchral  monuments  of  Thebes. 

In  pursuance  of  his  plan  of  continued  conquest  Napo- 
leon meanwhile  determined  to  anticipate  the  attacks  which 
he  expected  from  the  sultan's  power,  by  an  hostile  inva- 
sion into  Syria ;  where  the  sultan  was  then  assembling  a 
formidable  force.  On  the  llth  of  February,  1799,  he 
commenced  his  march,  over  the  desert  which  marks  the 
confines  of  the  two  continents,  Africa  and  Asia.  In  six 
days  he  reached  El  Arish,  where  he  defeated  the  Mame- 
lukes, assaulted  their  camp,  and  stormed  the  fortress. 
Having  continued  his  march  toward  Palestine,  he  at 
leugth  entered  that  celebrated  country  on  the  4th  of 
March.  The  first  town  and  fortress  that  lay  in  his  way 
was  Jaffa,  the  Joppa  of  sacred  antiquity.  The  garrison 
resisted  valiantly ;  but  after  a  fierce  and  continued  con- 
flict of  several  days,  the  works  were  carried,  and  the  town 
was  given  over  to  all  the  horrors  of  war.  Four  thousand 
troops  of  the  garrison  became  prisoners  ;  and  in  the  hor- 
rible fate  which  soon  awaited  them,  is  found  the  blackest 
J*  15 


226  FOUR  THOUSAND  PRISONERS  SHOT. 

stigma  of  infamy,  perfidy,  and  atrocious  inhumanity 
which  disgraces  the  whole  career  of  Napoleon — a  career 
not  otherwise  devoid  of  scenes  of  sanguinary  ferocity. 
These  prisoners  were  disarmed ;  but  it  was  a  question  of 
much  more  difficulty  to  determine  what  was  afterward 
to  be  done  with  four  thousand  prisoners,  under  the  pecu- 
liar circumstances  in  which  the  triumphant  invaders  were 
then  placed. 

During  two  days  this  difficult  question  was  debated  in 
a  council  of  war.  It  was  urged  if  these  prisoners  were 
released,  though  unarmed,  they  would  at  once  unite  with 
the  hostile  ranks  of  the  Turks  at  Acre,  or  with  the  Arabs 
of  the  desert  who  continually  harassed  the  rear  and  flanks 
of  the  army.  If  they  were  retained  and  guarded  in  cap- 
tivity by  the  French  troops,  it  would  be  impossible  to  find 
subsistence  for  them.  The  difficulty  of  procuring  rations 
for  the  French  soldiers  was  already  very  great.  At  the 
same  time,  the  difficulty  of  guarding  so  large  a  body  of 
prisoners  was  immense ;  and  would  require  the  services 
of  half  the  army.  Napoleon  resolved  at  last  that  they 
should  be  shot,  as  the  only  expedient  which  it  was  safe  to 
adopt  under  the  circumstances !  In  pursuance  of  this 
bloody  and  inhuman  purpose,  these  four  thousand  defense- 
less human  beings  were  marched  handcuffed  down  to  the 
sandy  shore  of  the  sea-coast,  were  formed  into  small  squares 
and  there  were  deliberately  shot  down  in  cold  blood  by 
continued  discharges  of  musketry !  Several  hours  were 
occupied  in  the  execution  of  this  terrible  and  diabolical 
decree ;  and  the  horrors  of  the  scene  are  said  to  have  sur- 
passed all  that  has  ever  occurred,  amid  the  heat  and  fury 
of  conflicts  on  the  battle  field. 


SIEGE  OF  ACRE.  227 

After  defiling  his  name  and  character  with  the  eternal 
stigma  of  this  massacre,  Napoleon  again  resumed  his 
march.  After  various  conflicts  with  the  Turkish  forces, 
he  was  rapidly  approaching  the  celebrated  fortress  of 
Acre.  On  the  16th  of  March  the  French  army  arrived 
under  its  walls.  The  pacha  of  Syria  had  taken  refuge 
within  them,  with  all  his  artillery,  his  treasures,  and  his 
armes ;  and  had  determined  to  defend  them  to  the  very 
last  extremity.  During  the  progress  of  this  memorable 
siege  the  utmost  heroism  and  desperate  valor  were  dis- 
played on  both  sides.  The  Turks  were  incited  to  their 
greatest  exertions  by  the  horror  produced  by  the  massa- 
cre which  had  just  taken  place  at  Jaffa ;  and  they  justly 
feared  a  similar  fate,  if  they  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  vic- 
toiious  and  implacable  French.  The  latter  on  their  side 
saw  before  them  the  vast  fortifications  of  a  city,  the  pos- 
session of  which  was  of  the  most  vital  importance  to 
them.  Should  they  fail  before  Acre  their  march  of  con- 
quest was  forever  ended  in  the  east.  They  could  not  ad- 
vance a  step  farther,  and  leave  so  important  a  place  be- 
hind them,  in  the  hands  of  a  powerful  and  desperate  foe. 
As  Napoleon  remarked  with  his  usual  sagacity,  pointing 
to  the  great  tower  of  the  fortress,  "  The  fate  of  the  east 
lies  in  yonder  fort ;  the  fall  of  Acre  alone  will  lead  to  the 
possession  of  Damascus,  and  to  the  submission  of  Aleppo ! " 

Both  sides  were  fully  conscious  of  the  vast  importance 
of  the  fortress,  to  their  respective  interests ;  and  this 
consciousness  gave  a  degree  of  desperation  to  the  con- 
flicts which  took  place  around  and  within  its  walls,  which 
is  not  exceeded  in  the  annals  of  warfare.  We  will  not  at- 
tempt to  describe  the  prodigious  exertions  of  the  besieg- 


228  DEFEAT  OF  NAPOLEOK 

ers,  led  on  by  the  vast  genius  of  Napoleon  himself;  nor 
will  we  endeavor  to  depict  the  heroism  and  desperate 
resolution  displayed  by  the  besieged  .during  the  many  as- 
saults made  upon  the  works. 

The  siege  continued  until  the  20th  of  May.  During 
its  progress  the  French  had  several  times  forced  an  en- 
trance within  the  walls,  and  had  been  as  often  repulsed 
with  great  losses  by  the  Turks.  The  utmost  efforts  of 
valor  and  skill  could  not  triumph  over  the  immense  strength 
of  the  fortress  when  defended  by  such  heroism  as  then  ac- 
tuated the  enraged,  desperate  and  implacable  Ottomans. 

At  length,  the  white  sails  of  the  English  fleet,  under 
Sir  Philip  Sydney,  appeared  in  the  distant  horizon,  bring- 
ing succor  to  the  besieged  fortress ;  and  Napoleon  per- 
ceiving the  hopelessness  of  further  exertions,  gave  the 
order  to  commence  the  retreat.  The  fire  of  the  Turks 
was  kept  up  from  the  walls,  until  the  retiring  army  passed 
forever  out  of  the  sight  and  beyond  the  vision  of  the 
sorely  besieged,  but  invincible  garrison.  Napoleon  had 
lost  three  thousand  of  his  best  troops  beneath  the  walls 
of  Acre.  In  his  retreat  he  left  all  his  artillery  behind. 
His  dream  of  oriental  glory  had  passed  away,  and  he 
awoke,  at  length,  to  a  reality  of  horrors. 

We  will  not  follow  the  baffled  invader  of  the  east 
through  ah1  the  incidents  of  his  remaining  stay  in  Egypt. 
From  Acre  he  retreated  through  the  desert  to  Cairo. 
From  Cairo,  he  advanced  to  Aboukir  Bay,  to  attack  the 
large  force  of  Turks  which  the  sultan  had  sent  to  Egypt, 
to  assist  in  crushing  the  power  of  the  French.  On  the 
25th  of  July  the  great  battle  of  Aboukir  Bay  was  fought ; 
and  after  a  long  and  desperate  struggle,  victory  once 


HIS  RETURN  TO  FRANCE.  229 

more  was  won  back  to  the  standard  of  Napoleon.  Seven 
thousand  slain  Turks  attested  the  fury  of  the  conflict, 
and  the  magnitude  of  the  triumph  on  that  memorable 
field. 

Immediately  after  the  occurrence  of  this  battle,  Napo- 
leon received  information  of  the  disasters  which  had  be- 
fallen the  directory  in  Italy  and  Switzerland ;  and  he 
immediately  formed  the  resolution  of  secretly  leaving  his 
army  behind  him,  and  of  returning  to  Europe.  Accord- 
ingly, on  the  22d  of  August  he  set  sail  from  Alexandria, 
having  entrusted  the  command  of  the  troops  hi  Egypt  to 
Kleber.  He  was  accompanied  only  by  Marat,  Lannes, 
Berthier,  Marmont,  Bourrienne,  and  several  more  of  his 
personal  staff.  After  a  voyage  of  several  months,  during 
which  the  frigate  which  bore  the  then  obscure  party  nar- 
rowly escaped  capture  by  the  English  cruisers  in  the 
Mediterranean,  he  reached  Ajaccio.  He  sailed  thence, 
after  a  sojourn  of  eight  days  in  his  native  place,  for  the 
coast  of  France.  He  arrived  attended  only  by  his  suite, 
in  the  Bay  of  Frejus,  on  the  8th  of  October ;  and  im- 
mediately commenced  a  rapid  journey  to  Paris. 

Thus  terminated,  without  any  decisive  results,  the  most 
romantic  and  remarkable  expedition  of  modern  times. 
It  resembled,  in  the  brilliant  prospects  which  attended  its 
commencement,  and  in  the  disasters  and  disappointment 
which  beclouded  its  termination,  the  more  stupendous 
venture  of  the  great  Corsican  against  the  empire  of  Rus- 
sia, which  afterward  occurred  during  his  career. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  EMPRESS  MARIA  LOUISA,  AND  THE  COURT  OP  ST.  CLOUD. 

THE  splendor  of  Napoleon's  military  reputation  after 
his  return  from  Egypt,  rendered  him  the  most  considera- 
ble personage  in  France ;  and  while  the  directory  was 
rapidly  crumbling  on  its  throne,  Napoleon  was  as  rapidly 
rising  upon  its  ruins.  On  the  9th  of  November,  1799, 
Napoleon  dispersed  the  council  of  five  hundred,  while 
assembled  in  their  hall,  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  The 
directorial  government  was  abolished,  and  the  consulate 
was  established,  consisting  of  Napoleon,  Sieyes,  and  Ro- 
ger-Ducos.  The  two  latter  were  subsequently  succeeded 
by  Cambaceres  and  Le  Brun ;  but  the  strong  arm  and 
irresistible  will  of  Napoleon  already  governed  the  desti- 
nies of  France.  Then  came  the  consulate  for  life.  At 
length,  in  1804,  Napoleon  ascended  the  imperial  throne. 
Meanwhile,  his  splendid  triumphs  on  the  field  of  battle, 
his  profound  wisdom  in  the  council  chamber,  his  energy 
and  capacity  as  a  ruler,  had  filled  the  world  with  his  glo- 
ry. Mankind  seemed  after  the  lapse  of  many  ages,  to  be- 
hold the  revival  of  the  immortal  epoch  of  the  conquerors 
of  old ;  and  looked  with  mingled  admiration  and  terror 
at  the  rising  star  and  amazing  conquests  of  the  modern 
Alexander. 

But  one  additional  title  to  glory  Napoleon  still  wanted, 
and  that  title  he  determined  tf  possess.  The  humble 


NAPOLEON  ENTERS  VIENNA.  231 

Corsican  desired  to  unite  his  low-born  race  to  one  of  the 
ancient  reigning  dynasties  of  Europe.  This  union  would 
identify  himself  and  his  cause  with  the  powerful  legitimacy 
and  conservatism  of  the  past.  The  princess  destined  to 
realize  for  him  this  wish,  was  the  grand-duchess  Maria 
Louisa  of  Austria,  the  youthful  heir  of  the  most  ancient, 
the  most  powerful,  and  the  most  illustrious  race  of  kings, 
who  had  inherited  the  title  of  the  Caesars. 

Let  us  narrate  briefly  some  of  the  events  which  pre- 
ceded the  union  of  this  princess  with  Napoleon  ;  the  state 
of  the  respective  kingdoms  which  they  represented ;  and 
the  strange  events  which  blended  their  families  and  des- 
tinies into  one. 

During  the  year  1809  occurred  that  celebrated  cam- 
paign, which  may  be  said  to  have  laid  the  Germanic  em- 
pire in  the  dust.  On  the  9th  of  April,  Prince  Charles, 
commanding  the  forces  of  Austria,  took  the  field,  and  the 
Emperor  Francis  Joseph  declared  war  against  France. 
Napoleon  immediately  put  himself  at  the  head  of  his 
armies,  then  concentrated  at  Donauwerth.  On  the  23d 
of  April  he  made  himself  master  of  Ratisbon.  Imme- 
diately followed  the  decisive  battle  of  Eckmiihl,  and  in 
one  month  from  that  period,  Napoleon  entered  Vienna  in 
triumph.  That  capital  had  been  defended  by  the  Arch- 
Duke  Maximilian,  and  during  the  siege  which  preceded 
its  fall,  the  well  known  incident  occurred  which  for  the 
first  time  connected  the  name  of  the  future  empress  of 
France  with  that  of  the  conqueror.  The  city  was  fiercely 
bombarded,  and  Napoleon  was  informed  that  the  safety 
of  the  arch-duchess  was  endangered  by  his  artillery, 
which  was  then  throwing  its  iron  hail-storm  on  the  impe- 


232  NAPOLEON'S  SERIES  OF  VICTORIES. 

rial  palace  to  which  she  was  confined  by  a  serious  indis- 
position. Napoleon  instantly  ordered  the  direction  of 
his  pieces  to  be  changed.  Vienna  at  length  capitulated, 
and  the  victor  took  up  his  residence  at  the  palace  of 
Schonbrunn. 

During  this  short  campaign  of  a  few  weeks,  Napoleon 
had  performed  some  of  his  most  memorable  achievements. 
The  Austrian  emperor  had  entered  the  field  with  an  ar- 
my of  nearly  five  hundred  thousand  men.  Napoleon's 
forces  under  Massena  and  Davoust,  were  far  inferior  in 
number  to  their  opponents.  The  battle  of  Landschut  was 
the  first  of  that  remarkable  series  of  victories  which  now 
crowned  Napoleon's  arms.  In  that  battle  the  Austrians 
lost  nine  thousand  men.  At  the  victory  of  Eckmiihl  the 
Austrians  lost  twenty  thousand  prisoners.  Next  follow 
the  memorable  conflicts  of  Asperne  and  Essling,  and  so  im- 
mense were  the  struggles,  and  the  losses  on  each  side  during 
these  conflicts,  that  each  of  the  combatants  claimed  the  vic- 
tory. Immediately  afterward  was  fought  the  decisive  bat- 
tle of  Wagram.  The  struggle  was  indeed  long  and  bloody. 
The  Arch-Duke  Charles,  generalissimo  of  the  Austrian 
forces,  had  extended  his  line  over  too  wide  a  space ;  and 
Napoleon  took  advantage  of  this  error  to  concentrate  his 
strength  upon  the  most  exposed  point  of  his  enemy.  The 
defeat  of  the  Austrians  was  complete.  Twenty  thousand 
prisoners,  beside  all  the  artillery  and  baggage  of  the  arch- 
duke, fell  into  the  hands  of  the  conqueror.  An  armistice 
was  the  result  of  this  decisive  victory.  Napoleon  re- 
turned again  to  Schonbrunn  where  the  terms  of  the 
treaty  were  matured  and  completed. 

It  was  by  this  treaty  of  Schonbrunn,  that  Napoleon 


MARIA  LOUISA'S  OPINION  OF  NAPOLEON.         233 

most  effectually  humbled  and  weakened  the  Austrian 
power.  By  it  Francis  II.  was  compelled  to  descend  from 
the  high  and  ancient  dignity  of  emperor  of  Germany,  to 
that  of  emperor  of  Austria.'  He  had  been  compelled  by 
the  treaty  to  make  other  heavy  sacrifices.  The  immense 
territories  known  under  the  name  of  the  Illgrean  provin- 
ces were  ceded  to  France.  Napoleon  thus  added  to  his 
title  of  emperor  of  France,  that  of  king  of  Italy.  In  Oc- 
tober he  left  Vienna  and  passing  through  Wtirtemberg, 
arrived  in  haste  at  Paris.  The  thunder,  the  carnage,  and 
the  horrors  of  Wagram,  had  effectually  prepared  the  way 
by  which  the  Austrian  princess  was  conducted  to  the 
nuptial  couch  of  the  conqueror,  who  had  so  nearly  laid 
the  dominion  of  her  revered  father  forever  prostrate  in 
the  dust.  She  may  be  easily  justified  for  the  ideas  which 
she  is  at  this  period  represented  as  entertaining  of  Napo- 
leon ;  that  he  was  a  monster  in  human  shape ;  that  he  was 
half-man,  half-devil ;  that  he  was  the  evil  genius  of  her 
family ;  that  he  was  the  scourge  and  curse  of  Europe ;  and 
that  he  was  the  embodiment  of  everything  hateful  and 
detestable.  She  changed  her  sentiments  on  this  point,  in 
a  remarkable  degree,  upon  a  more  tender  and  intimate 
acquaintance  with  their  subject.  She  became  convinced 
that  he  was  a  man  without  any  infernal  compound ;  and 
one  indeed  whom  an  affectionate  and  sentimental  wo- 
man might  most  devotedly  love.  It  was  during  Napo- 
leon's temporary  sojourn  at  the  palace  of  Schonbrunn, 
that  he  first  conceived  and  expressed  the  singular  pur- 
pose of  demanding  the  youthful  arch-duchess  as  his 
spouse. 

Immediately  after  his  return  from  Vienna,  Napoleon 


234          NAPOLEON'S  DIVORCE  FROM  JOSEPHINE. 

began  seriously  to  contemplate  the  project  of  his  divorce 
Impelled  by  the  irresistible  power  of  his  ambition,  he  de« 
termined  that  it  should  take  place  ;  though  by  so  doing 
he  did  violence  to  his  affections,  and  to  all  the  nobler  sen- 
timents of  his  soul.  A  stupendous  struggle  took  place 
within  him,  beneath  the  mighty  violence  of  which,  even 
his  master  mind  for  a  time  staggered.  But  at  length  the 
splendor  of  his  contemplated  alliance,  whereby  his  upstart 
fortunes  would  be  allied  to  the  most  ancient  and  august 
dynasty  in  Europe,  was  too  strong  an  allurement  to  be 
resisted.  He  determined  that,  cost  what  it  would,  of 
burning  tears,  of  sad  regrets,  of  breaking  hearts,  and  of 
ruined  and  blasted  hopes — Josephine,  the  beloved  wife 
of  his  youth — his  best,  his  most  devoted  friend,  should  de- 
scend from  the  high  place  to  which  he  had  elevated  her, 
and  that  another  should  occupy  it  in  her  stead. 

It  was  on  the  15th  of  December,  1809,  that  this  divorce 
took  place.  Several  affecting  scenes  previously  occurred 
between  Napoleon  and  his  wife,  respecting  their  separa- 
tion. Josephine,  from  the  first,  bore  this  reverse  of  for- 
tune with  magnanimity.  When  Napoleon  resolved  to 
mention  to  her  the  necessity  for  a  divorce  that  he  might 
obtain  an  heir  to  his  empire,  he  approached  her ;  he  gazed 
affectionately  upon  her  for  a  few  moments ;  and  then  with 
emotion  pronounced  these  remarkable  words :  "  Jose- 
phine, my  excellent  Josephine,  thou  knowest  if  I  have 
loved  thee !  To  thee,  and  to  thee  alone,  do  I  owe  the 
only  moments  of  happiness  I  have  enjoyed  in  this  world. 
But  my  destiny  overmasters  my  will.  My  dearest  affec- 
tions must  be  silent  before  the  interests  of  France." — 
*  Say  no  more,"  she  replied,  "  I  was  prepared  for  this ; 


JOSEPHINE'S  APPEARANCE.  235 

but  the  blow  is  not  the  less  terrible ! "  She  at  length 
fainted,  and  was  carried  to  her  chamber.  When  the 
time  arrived  for  publicly  proclaiming  the  divorce,  the 
grand  saloon  of  the  Tuileries  was  crowded.  The  whole 
Bonaparte  family  were  present.  All  the  courtiers  were  in 
full  costume.  Napoleon  wore  a  splendid  suit  of  ceremo- 
ny, with  magnificent  drooping  plumes.  He  stood  motion- 
less as  a  statue,  with  his  arms  crossed  upon  his  breast. 
At  length  the  door  opened  by  which  Josephine  was  to 
enter.  She  appeared ;  her  countenance  was  pale,  but 
calm  and  self-possessed.  She  leaned  upon  the  arm  of  her 
daughter  Hortense,  whose  tears  fell  fast,  and  who  could 
scarcely  control  her  feelings.  Josephine  approached  the 
center  of  the  apartment,  where  an  arm  chair  had  been 
placed  for  her,  before  which  was  a  small  table,  with  writ- 
ing apparatus  of  gold.  She  wore  a  dress  of  white  muslin, 
without  a  single  ornament.  She  moved  with  her  usual 
grace  to  the  seat  prepared  for  her,  and  there  listened  to 
the  reading  of  the  act  of  separation.  Her  children,  Eu- 
gene and  Hortense,  stood  behind  her  chair,  and  in  vain 
attempted  to  suppress  their  sobs  and  tears.  Josephine 
heard  with  calmness  the  words  which  there  placed  an 
eternal  barrier  between  herself  and  the  tenderly  cherished 
object  of  her  pride  and  her  affections.  The  reading  over, 
she  arose ;  pressed  for  a  moment  her  handkerchief  to  her 
swimming  eyes ;  pronounced  with  a  clear  voice  the  oath 
of  acceptance ;  and  taking  the  pen  from  the  hand  of 
Count  St.  Jean  d'Angely,  signed  her  name  in  full  and 
bold  characters  to  the  instrument  before  her.  Then, 
leaning  on  the  arms  of  Eugene  and  Hortense,  she  retired 
from  the  saloon  as  she  had  entered  it. 


236  MIDNIGHT  SCENE  IN  THE  PALACE. 

But  the  interest  of  this  sad  day  had  not  yet  terminated 
Josephine  remained  shut  up  in  her  own  apartment  until 
her  usual  hour  of  retiring  to  rest.  Napoleon  then  re- 
paired to  a  separate  chamber  from  the  one  which  he  had 
long  shared  with  his  now  dethroned  empress.  He  came 
not  that  night  to  his  usual  resting-place.  He  sought  not 
then  the  communion  of  that  tender  and  faithful  breast  in 
which  for  many  long  and  troubled  years  he  had  deposited 
his  cares  as  into  a  holy  sanctuary,  and  had  ever  found 
sympathy  and  affection.  The  contrast  was  too  painful  to 
Josephine's  feelings,  and  her  agony  at  length  became  in- 
supportable. She  arose  from  her  couch.  Napoleon  had 
just  placed  himself  in  bed,  when  suddenly  and  silently 
the  door  of  his  apartment  opened.  Josephine  appeared, 
her  dress  and  hair  in  disorder,  and  her  face  swollen  with 
weeping.  She  advanced  slowly  toward  the  bed,  and  with 
clasped  hands  gazed  upon  the  covered  form  of  him,  who 
had  so  long  been  the  god  of  her  idolatry.  Forgetting 
everything  else,  in  the  fullness  of  her  grief,  she  threw  her- 
self upon  the  bed,  clasped  the  neck  of  her  husband,  and 
gave  full  vent  to  her  grief.  Napoleon  wept.  He  dis- 
missed the  attendant  who  waited  at  the  door  of  the  apart- 
ment ;  and  after  an  interview  of  an  hour,  the  emperor 
parted  forever  from  the  woman  who  had  been  the  benig- 
nant angel  of  his  checkered  and  turbulent  destiny.  The 
next  morning  she  bade  adieu  to  the  Tuileries,  which  she 
never  entered  again.  Such  was  the  woman,  and  such  her 
spirit,  whose  successor  Maria  Louisa  was  to  become,  upon 
the  uirone  of  France. 

It  was  indeed  a  singular  fate  which  was  about  to  unite 
the  destinies  of  these  two  beings.    Napoleon  had  fought 


IMAIULEON'S  SECOND  MARRIAGE.  237 

toad  game  a  twenty  pitched  battles  over  the  armies  of 
Austria.  He  had  spread  terror  during  ten  years  through- 
out her  dominions.  He  had  twice  entered  her  trembling 
capital  as  a  conqueror.  He  had  frequently  brought  his 
future  father-in-law  to  the  brink  of  destruction.  And 
yet,  he  was  now  to  be  united  in  the  tenderest  and  most 
endearing  ties  with  the  princess  whose  family  and  whose 
dominion  he  had  so  nearly  ruined.  There  were  men 
then  living  also,  who  remembered  well  the  day  when  this 
haughty  and  all-conquering  aspirant  to  the  fairest  and 
noblest  hand  in  Christendom,  had  left  his  watch,  his  only 
possession,  as  security  for  a  small  sum  of  borrowed  money. 
There  were  women  then  living  who  had  disclaimed  him  as  a 
suitor,  and  even  as  an  associate,  when  he  first  appeared  in 
Paris,  a  poor,  meager,  unknown,  and  undistinguished 
youth.  Now,  indeed,  he  might  command  the  approving 
smiles,  and  the  yielding  heart  of  the  most  beautiful  and 
most  high-born  of  the  daughters  of  the  earth.  Human 
destiny  is  indeed  a  wonderful  enigma !  Truth  is  strange ; 
often  far  stranger  than  the  most  erratic  flights  of  the  dis- 
tempered imagination. 

The  marriage  having  been  duly  determined  upon  by 
the  plenipotentiaries  of  both  monarchs,  its  announcement 
was  received  both  at  Paris  and  Vienna  with  every  de- 
monstration of  delight.  Splendid  fetes  were  given  in 
honor  of  the  imperial  nuptials.  Berthier,  Prince  de  Neuf- 
chatel,  was  sent  to  Vienna  to  conduct  the  empress  to 
Paris.  She  was  married  by  proxy  to  her  uncle  Prince 
Charles,  with  ah1  the  forms  and  ceremonies  which  are  so 
scrupulously  observed  by  the  court  of  Vienna,  on  the 


238  MARIA  LOUISA'S  ADIEU  TO  VIENNA. 

1st  of  April,  1810;  and  the  day  of  her  departure  from  the 
palace,  and  from  the  city  of  her  forefathers,  was  fixed. 

It  is  recorded  that  the  young  arch-duchess  often  shed 
tears  of  regret  at  her  contemplated  separation  from  her 
family,  and  her  connection  with  a  man  who  had  been  so 
long  the  object  of  her  terror  and  her  aversion.  Her 
family  have  always  been  remarkable  for  the  unusual  affec- 
tion and  attachment  which  has  ever  existed  between  its 
members.  She  shed  bitter  tears  at  the  prospects  of  the 
future,  which,  while  they  seemed  fraught  with  splendor 
and  distinction,  might  nevertheless  be  pregnant  with  dan- 
ger, with  mortification,  and  with  indignity  to  herself  and 
her  family. 

When  the  day  of  departure  arrived,  Maria  Louisa  bade 
adieu  to  all  the  members  of  her  family.  Etiquette  re- 
quired that  she  should  then  retire  to  her  apartment,  to 
wait  till  Berthier  came  to  conduct  her  to  her  carriage. 
When  the  prince  entered  her  apartment  he  was  surprised 
to  find  her  bathed  in  tears.  She  apologized  gracefully 
for  her  weakness;  "but,"  said  she,,  "see  howl  am  sur- 
rounded here  by  so  many  objects  which  are  dear  to  me, 
and  which  I  nmst  leave  forever.  These  drawings  were 
made  by  my  sister ;  that  tapestry  was  wrought  by  my 
mother  ;  those  paintings  are  by  my  uncle  Charles."  In 
fact,  almost  every  ornament  of  her  apartment  was  the 
cherished  work  of  some  beloved  hand.  She  expressed 
her  regret  also  at  losing  her  singing  birds,  her  parrot ; 
and  above  all,  a  separation  which  more  than  all  the  rest 
seemed  to  wring  her  heart  with  sorrow,  was  the  loss  of 
Fortune,  her  lapdog.  To  lose  all  these,  was  a  misfor- 
tune which  at  least  excused  the  tears  shed  by  the  tender 


NOVEL  SCHEME  OF  BERTHIER.  £39 

and  affectionate  princess.  So  mutual  was  the  attachment 
between  her  and  her  little  favorite,  that  they  parted  with 
an  affecting  adieu  of  regret  and  complaint. 

A  thought  at  this  moment  entered  the  mind  of  Ber- 
thier,  which  certainly  did  him  great  credit.  "I  have 
merely  come,"  said  he,  "to  acquaint  your  majesty,  that 
you  need  not  yet  depart  for  two  hours.  I  will  therefore 
withdraw  during  that  time."  He  immediately  went  to 
the  emperor  and  acquainted  him  with  his  plan.  Francis 
II.  the  most  affectionate  of  fathers,  gladly  assented  to  his 
proposition.  The  requisite  orders  were  given,  and  in  two 
hours  all  was  ready  for  their  departure  and  the  execution 
of  his  mysterious  scheme. 

The  young  empress  rapidly  passed  through  the  do- 
minions of  her  father,  and  reached  the  confines  of  the 
French  territories.  She  was  surrounded  everywhere  with 
festivities  and  rejoicings ;  and  her  affection  for  her  parrot 
and  her  dog,  had  almost  faded  from  her  memory.  It 
was  at  Compiegne  that  she  first  beheld  her  future  hus- 
band. The  incidents  connected  with  their  first  interview 
are  well  known ;  how  Napoleon  had  sent  an  escort  to 
meet  the  cortege  of  his  young  empress,  while  he  deter- 
mined to  await  her  arrival ;  how  his  impetuosity  over- 
came his  prudence  and  his  decorum ;  how  he  rode  forth  at 
a  furious  rate  to  meet  her  carriage ;  how  he  himself  opened 
the  door  and  rushed  into  her  arms ;  how  she  was  at  first 
overcome  with  sudden  terror,  but  being  reassured  by  his 
tender  embraces  was  about  to  kneel,  when  Napoleon  pre- 
vented her,  and  overwhelmed  her  again  with  his  impetu- 
ous caresses. 

The  imperial  couple  spent  the  first  night  of  their  union 


240  ITS  FULFILLMENT. 

at  Compeigne.  The  next  day  they  proceeded  directly  to  St. 
Cloud,  and  thence  to  Paris.  The  empress  at  this  period 
iwas  eighteen  years  of  age.  Her  personal  appearance  was 
interesting.  Her  hair  was  of  a  light  color,  her  eyes  were 
blue  and  expressive,  her  carriage  was  graceful,  and  her 
figure  was  elegant  and  beautifully  proportioned.  Her 
hands  and  feet  were  perfect,  and  might  have  served 
as  models  to  the  sculptor.  She  enjoyed  good  health; 
possessed  a  florid  complexion ;  had  an  expressive  and 
amiable  countenance;  and  might  indeed  have  been 
regarded  as  handsome,  though  by  no  means  as  intel- 
lectual. 

Upon  her  arrival  at  the  palace  of  the  Tuilleries,  Napo- 
leon took  the  first  opportunity  to  give  her  the  agreeable 
surprise,  which  the  stratagem  of  Berthier  had  prepared 
for  her.  He  led  her  into  one  of  the  narrow  corridors  ot 
the  palace,  lighted  only  by  a  single  lamp.  "  Where  are 
we  going  ?  "  said  she.  "  Come,  Louisa,  are  you  afraid  to 
follow  me  ?  "  replied  the  emperor,  who  pressed  his  young 
bride  to  his  bosom  with  affectionate  tenderness.  Sud- 
denly they  stopped  at  a  door,  within  which  they  heard  the 
impatient  barking  of  a  dog  which  seemed  dissatisfied  with 
its  prison.  Napoleon  opened  the  door,  and  desired  Louisa 
to  enter.  Imagine  her  surprise  and  delight  to  find  herself 
in  a  splendid  apartment,  greeted  by  her  little  favorite 
from.  Vienna ;  while  in  glancing  around  her,  she  saw  the 
room  furnished  with  the  same  chairs,  carpets,  paintings, 
birds,  drawings,  and  all  the  other  cherished  mementoes 
of  her  former  happy  home,  placed  in  the  same  order  and 
arrangement  which  they  had  formerly  occupied.  Maria 
Louisa,  overcome  by  her  delightful  emotions,  threw  her- 


BERTHIER'S  REWARD.  241 

self  into  her  husband's  arms,  who  embraced  her  with  de- 
light, very  much  in  defiance  of  all  the  established  rules 
of  court  etiquette. 

To  complete  the  interesting  scene,  Berthier  now  en- 
tered, when  Napoleon  said :  "  Louisa,  it  is  to  him  that 
you  owe  this  unexpected  pleasure.  I  desire  you  to  em- 
brace him  as  a  just  reward."  Berthier  took  the  hand  of 
the  empress ;  but  the  emperor  added :  "  No,  no,  you  must 
kiss  my  old  and  faithful  friend."  His  agreeable  order  was 
obeyed ;  and  the  marshal  saluted  with  mingled  confusion 
and  pleasure  the  blooming  and  blushing  bride  of  his 
master. 

Thus,  at  length,  after  so  many  storms  and  struggles, 
after  the  convulsions  which  had  shaken  a  continent,  and 
the  mighty  upheavings  which  had  overturned  thrones  and 
dynasties,  the  loud  clarion  of  battle  had  ceased  to  resound ; 
the  drum  no  longer  beat  to  arms ;  and  the  imperial  eagle 
having  soared  in  the  highest  heaven  of  glory,  had  folded  its 
wings  and  paused  on  its  ambitious  way.  Universal  peace 
prevailed.  The  harsh  words  of  command  had  given  place 
to  the  gentle  and  endearing  accents  of  love.  Mars  was 
neglected  and  Hymen  honored.  The  gates  of  the  temple 
of  Janus  were  closed ;  while  Concord  and  Cupid  with 
their  benignant  scepters  reigned  over  the  rejoicing  nations. 

"Grim  visaged  war  had  smoothed  his  wrinkled  front, 
And  now,  instead  of  mounting  barbed  steeds 
To  fright  the  souls  of  fearful  adversaries, 
He  capers  nimbly  in  a  lady's  chamber 
To  the  lascivious  pleasing  of  a  lute !  " 

The  Court  of  St.  Cloud,  to  the  magnificent  portals  of 

which  the  youthful  empress  was  conducted  by  her  ill  us- 
K  16 


242  THE  SPLENDOR  OF  NAPOLEON'S  COURT. 

trious  spouse,  and  the  empire  which  she  was  invited  to 
share  with  him,  exceeded  in  splendor,  in  renown,  and  in 
every  element  of  human  grandeur,  all  other  courts  which 
ever  existed.  The  brilliancy  of  the  alliance  which  now 
took  place,  excited  the  admiration  of  all  the  world.  Man- 
kind had  never  before  witnessed  a  union  by  which  so  many 
glories,  such  imposing  historical  associations,  such  re- 
nown and  such  splendor  had  been  combined  together. 
The  union  of  Arragon  and  Castile  by  the  marriage  of 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  had  led  to  the  establishment  of 
the  Spanish  monarchy,  which  became  the  greatest  in 
chivalrous  power  and  heroism  in  its  day,  which  van- 
quished the  Moorish  empire  in  one  continent,  and  the  Pe- 
ruvian in  another.  The  union  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia 
with  the  hereditary  states  of  Austria,  by  the  marriage  of 
Maria  Theresa  with  Francis  I.  had  produced  a  great 
monarchy.  The  consolidation  of  Scotland  and  England 
under  James  I.  had  greatly  increased  the  magnitude  and 
promoted  the  aggrandizement  of  the  British  realms.  But 
these  were  insignificant  combinations  compared  with  the 
one  which  now  had  taken  place.  There  on  the  one  hand 
was  the  vast  and  ancient  inheritance  of  the  house  of 
Hapsburg,  of  Charles  V.  and  of  Maria  Theresa,  combined 
with  that  of  Charlemagne,  of  the  long  line  of  the  Capets, 
and  of  the  Bourbons.  The  former  sovereignty  had  been 
the  result  of  the  steady  and  careful  accumulation  of  ages, 
of  long  struggles  and  of  numerous  vicissitudes.  The  lat- 
ter empire  had  been  won  by  an  untitled  adventurer  from, 
a  remote  island  of  the  sea ;  by  the  victorious  hero  of  an 
hundred  battles ;  by  a  man  whose  ambition  had  convulsed 
Europe,  and  whose  god-like  genius  was  the  wonder  and 


THE  ELEMENTS  OF  ITS  SPLENDOR.  243 

the  terror  of  his  race.  Napoleon  had  mounted  a  throne 
upon  which  fifty-five  anointed  sovereigns  had  sat  in  suc- 
cession, from  the  day  that  Childeric  I.  ascended  it  in 
the  fifth  century,  down  till  that  period.  He  was  their 
successor,  their  heir,  their  representative. 

The  court  over  which  Maria  Louisa  was  invited  now  to 
preside,  was  brilliant  in  proportion  to  the  magnitude  of 
the  empire  over  which  it  ruled.  Paris  was  then  the  me- 
tropolis of  the  civilized  world.  Thither  tended  as  to  a 
mighty  and  all- devouring  vortex,  the  luxurious  expendi- 
tures of  Europe's  princes  and  nobility.  Thither  clus- 
tered, as  around  the  great  center  of  social  refinement  and 
splendor,  the  most  beautiful,  the  most  accomplished,  the 
most  fascinating  women,  as  well  as  the  bravest,  the  no- 
blest, and  the  most  illustrious  men. 

There,  as  the  acknowledged  head  and  supreme  sover- 
eign was  the  modern  Achilles ;  a  hero  as  brave,  as  gifted, 
and  as  ambitious  as  Caesar  or  Alexander,  and  more  pow- 
erful and  fortunate  than  either.  His  first  wife  Josephine, 
like  the  evening  star,  had  retired  in  sweetness  and  in 
beauty  from  the  scenes  of  her  former  grandeur  which  she 
had  so  well  adorned  and  dignified,  to  the  shades  of  private 
life  at  Malmaison ;  where  she  remained  unseen  by  a  world 
who  remembered  her  only  to  admire  her  virtues  and  to 
regret  her  absence ;  but  where  she  was  still  adored  by 
the  few  who  were  allowed  to  behold  her  subdued  splen- 
dor. That  court  was  now  graced  with  the  presence  of 
Pauline  Bonaparte,  the  most  lovely  and  the  most  seductive 
of  women  ;  the  modern  Venus,  as  beautiful  and  as  frail  as 
the  goddess  whom  she  so  aptly  represented.  There  was 
Queen  Hortense,  the  wife  of  Louis  Bonaparte,  who  had 


244  ITS  HEROES  AND  BEAUTIES. 

inherited  her  mother's  amiability  and  intelligence.  There 
was  Caroline  Bonaparte,  the  queen  of  Naples,  and  the 
princess  Eliza ;  both  of  them  worthy  to  be  the  sisters  of  an 
emperor;  whose  accomplishments  were  the  praise,  but 
whose  intrigues  were  the  scandal  of  all  Europe.  There 
was  Talleyrand,  the  most  sagacious  and  far-seeing  of  states- 
men ;  Fouche,  the  most  cunning  and  intriguing  of  min- 
isters ;  and  Cambaceres,  the  most  dignified  of  courtiers. 
There  were  clusters  of  renowned  warriors  who  had  van- 
quished the  embattling  foes  of  France  on  many  a  blood- 
stained field ;  the  heroic  Ney,  the  impetuous  Lannes,  the 
dauntless  Massena,  the  resolute  Macdonald,  and  the  pru- 
dent Soult.  There  the  ambassadors  of  mighty  kings  and 
the  representatives  of  distant  and  renowned  republics 
were  assembled ;  and  added  a  brighter  luster  to  scenes 
already  sufficiently  resplendent.  There,  too,  was  the 
charm  produced  by  the  presence  of  dramatic  genius — of 
Mile.  Mars,  the  most  brilliant  of  actresses,  of  Talma, 
the  most  consummate  of  tragedians.  The  ancient  nobili- 
ty of  France  were  represented  by  the  Princess  DeRohan, 
and  by  others  of  its  most  illustrious  scions.  Peerless 
beauty  also  illumined  the  gilded  halls  of  St.  Cloud  by  its 
fascinating  presence ;  for  there  was  Madam  Tallien,  who 
still  retained  the  undiminished  splendor  of  her  majestic 
beauty ;  whose  heroic  love  had  inspired  her  husband  in 
other  days  to  strike  the  first  death-blow  to  the  terrible 
power  of  Robespierre.  There  too  were  Mesdames  Janot, 
Grandt  and  Recamier,  her  equals  in  personal  charms, 
though  not  in  genius  and  in  fame.  Around  the  court 
and  within  the  capital  of  the  great  Napoleon,  were  as- 
Bembled  the  most  eminent  men  of  that  day,  in  every  art 


ITS  ARTISTS  AND  SAVANS.  245 

and  science  known  to  human  genius ;  Isabey  the  painter, 
Paer  the  composer,  Champollion  the  antiquary,  Corvisart 
the  physician,  the  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne,  the  savans 
of  the  institute,  peers  of  ancient  houses,  and  statesmen 
and  soldiers  of  immortal  name.  Ah1  these  governed  from 
that  spot,  under  the  guidance  of  their  great  chief,  the 
interests  of  many  climes.  Around  the  court  of  St.  Cloud, 
the  anxious  curiosity  and  interest  of  mankind  from  Mos- 
cow to  Madrid,  and  from  the  bleak  hills  of  Scotland  to 
the  balmy  shores  of  the  Bosphorus  were  there  concentrated, 
as  toward  the  great  center  of  affairs ;  as  the  spot  whence 
all  absolute  decrees  proceeded,  which  controlled  alike  the 
world  of  fashion,  the  republic  of  letters,  the  fortunes  of 
war,  and  the  destinies  of  nations. 

Such  was  the  court  over  which  the  young  and  timid 
empress  was  suddenly  called  to  preside.  Shortly  after 
the  marriage,  Maria  Louisa  accompanied  Napoleon  into 
Belgium.  This  journey  was  taken  by  him  in  consequence 
of  various  disputes  which  had  taken  place  between  the 
emperor  and  his  brother  Louis,  the  king  of  that  country, 
which  had  terminated  in  a  complete  rupture.  At  Ant- 
werp, and  indeed  throughout  the  whole  tour,  the  empress 
received  the  homage  of  the  Dutch,  and  the  imperial  pair 
were  everywhere  greeted  with  public  rejoicings,  fetes, 
and  manifestations  of  popular  joy.  Louis  had  been  forced 
to  abdicate ;  and  Belgium  and  Holland  had,  by  an  impe- 
rial decree,  been  annexed  to  the  French  empire.  This 
journey  was  intended  to  afford  an  opportunity  to  inspect 
the  actual  wants  of  the  countries,  whose  government  he 
was  thus  constrained  personally  to  assume.  He  returned 


246  FESTIVITIES  IN  PARIS. 

by  way  of  Ostend,  Lille,  and  Normandy,  to  St.  Cloud, 
where  he  arrived  with  his  empress  in  June,  1810. 

The  festivities  which  took  place  at  Paris  in  honor  of 
the  imperial  ruptials  had  not  ceased  before  a  most  lament- 
able event  took  place,  whose  sad  details  will  long  be  re- 
membered. This  was  the  dreadful  accident  which  occured 
at  Prince  Schwartzenberg's  ball,  in  July  of  the  same  year. 
The  prince  occupied  the  Hotel  Montesson,  but  its  capa- 
cious proportions  were  not  sufficient  to  accommodate  the 
large  and  brilliant  company  which  honored  the  ball  with 
their  presence.  A  temporary  saloon  had  been  constructed 
in  the  garden,  which  resembled  a  fairy  palace,  filled  with 
flowers,  perfumes,  delicious  music,  and  the  dazzling  splen- 
dor of  diamonds  and  jewels.  The  walls  were  covered 
with  gold  and  silver  brocade,  while  hundreds  of  crystal 
chandeliers  shed  their  glittering  luster  over  the  gorgeous 
scene. 

Maria  Louisa  and  Napoleon  were  present.  The  dan- 
cing had  just  commenced  when  the  fire  was  discovered. 
The  empress  was  then  engaged  in  conversation  with  some 
ladies  near  the  throne  which  adorned  one  end  of  the  apart- 
ment. With  great  self-possession  and  courage  she  imme- 
diately ascended  the  steps  of  the  throne,  seated  herself 
there,  and  waited  till  Napoleon  came  to  conduct  her  from 
the  scene  of  peril  and  disaster.  This  he  immediately  did ; 
he  placed  her  hi  her  carriage  and  accompanied  her  as  far 
as  the  Place  Louis  XV.  But  there  were  other  and  much 
more  deplorable  scenes  connected  with  this  catastrophe. 
The  beautiful  and  accomplished  Princess  Schwartzenberg 
fell  a  victim  to  the  flames.  In  escaping  from  the  ball 
room,  a  ponderous  luster  fell  upon  her  head  and  fractured 


PRINCE  SCHWARTZENBERG'S  BALL.  247 

her  skull.  She  fell  into  an  opening  caused  by  the  "burn- 
ing of  the  floor ;  and  being  unable  to  rise  or  to  escape, 
was  soon  overpowered  by  the  flames.  Her  body  was 
found  burnt  to  a  cinder,  except  her  bosom,  and  a  part  of 
one  arm.  She  was  recognized  by  the  brilliant  jewels 
which  she  wore  around  her  neck,  which  were  still  attached 
to  her  mutilated  remains.  A  Swedish  officer  also  dis- 
covered among  the  ruins,  the  almost  lifeless  remains  of 
another  female.  Her  countenance  was  so  blackened,  as 
to  be  utterly  un distinguishable.  The  silver  mounting  of 
her  diamond  tiara^  had  melted,  and  penetrated  into  the 
head.  A  faint  groan  issued  from  what  seemed  to  be  but 
a  mass  of  cinders — which  was  the  only  proof  that  life  was 
not  yet  extinct.  It  proved  to  be  the  Princess  de  la 
Leyen,  who  expired  the  following  day  in  the  most  inde- 
scribable agony. 

Such  was  the  sad  and  horrid  omen  which  immediately 
followed  the  splendid  nuptials  of  the  ambitious  Corsican ; 
and  which  filled  the  minds  of  thousands  with  superstitious 
terror.  Every  one  was  reminded  of  the  similar  catastro- 
phe which  had  occurred  at  the  marriage  of  Louis  XVI. 
and  Maria  Antoinette ;  and  which  might  forbode,  and 
actually  did  precede  the  extermination  of  that  new  dy- 
nasty, whose  inauguration  had  been  so  triumphant  and 
so  propitious. 

The  birth  of  the  king  of  Rome,  Napoleon  II.,  occurred 
on  the  20th  of  March,  1811.  This  event  may  be  termed 
the  last  benignant  smile  of  fortune  which  beamed  upon 
the  turbulent  career  of  Napoleon.  Maria  Louisa  suffered 
a  long  and  a  difficult  accouchement.  For  some  time  her 
danger  was  imminent.  Baron  Dubois  ran  to  acquaint 


248  BIRTH  OF  THE  KING  OF  ROME. 

Napoleon  of  her  peril.  He  found  him  taking  a  hath  tc 
cool  the  feverish  excitement  under  which  he  was  labor- 
ing. On  hearing  of  the  danger  of  the  empress,  he  threw 
on  a  robe-de-chambre  and  hastened  to  her  chamber.  "  Save 
the  mother,"  said  he  to  Corvisart,  the  attendant  physician, 
"treat  her  as  if  she  were  a  girl  of  the  Fauxbourg  St. 
Antoine."  As  soon  as  the  child  was  born,  the  emperor 
entered  the  apartment,  and  first  embraced  the  mother 
without  bestowing  a  look  upon  the  son.  The  latter,  in- 
deed, seemed  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  human  sympathy. 
Nearly  ten  minutes  elapsed  before  he  exhibited  any  signs 
of  life.  Every  expedient  was  resorted  to,  to  produce 
animation ;  he  was  rubbed  with  the  hand ;  drops  of  bran- 
dy were  blown  into  his  mouth ;  warm  napkins  were 
wrapped  around  him.  All  seemed  unavailing.  Mean- 
while the  loud  thunder  of  the  artillery  which  announced 
to  the  expectant  Parisians,  the  happy  event  of  the  birth 
of  a  son  to  their  renowned  emperor,  reverberated  over 
Paris,  and  shook  the  ponderous  walls  of  the  palace.  At 
length  the  royal  infant  uttered  a  feeble  cry.  It  is  confi- 
dantly  asserted  that  the  concussion  produced  by  the  dis- 
charge of  the  cannon  alone  resuscitated  the  expiring  in- 
fant, gave  to  Napoleon  an  heir,  and  to  France  the  cause 
of  boundless  joy  and  congratulation. 

Strange  to  say,  some  doubt  has  been  expressed  as  to 
whether  the  king  of  Rome  was  really  Napoleon's  son.  All 
such  doubt  is  absurd.  The  actual  eye-witnesses  of  the 
event  of  his  birth  were  twenty-two  in  number.  Nor  was 
there  anything  singular  in  the  fact,  that  Maria  Louisa, 
at  nineteen  years  of  age,  healthy,  blooming,  and  vigorous, 


ENTHUSIASM  OF  THE  PARISIANS.  249 

should  become  the  mother  of  a  son  to  Napoleon,  after 
eleven  months  of  marriage. 

The  king  of  Rome  was  baptized  on  the  day  of  his 
birth,  in  the  chapel  of  the  Tuileries.  The  whole  imperial 
family  were  in  attendance,  and  Napoleon  witnessed  the 
ceremony  with  the  deepest  emotion.  The  emperor  him- 
self bore  his  son  to  the  baptismal  font,  and  knelt  upon  a 
stool  covered  with  white  velvet  during  the  progress  of 
the  ceremony.  When  the  first  gun  announced  that  Maria 
Louisa  had  become  a  mother,  all  Paris  was  convulsed 
with  joy.  All  business  was  suspended ;  the  people  flocked 
to  the  Tuileries  ;  an  immense  crowd  surrounded  the  pal- 
ace ;  hats  were  thrown  up  into  the  air ;  people  kissed 
each  other  in  their  frenzied  enthusiasm ;  and  tears  of  joy 
were  seen  to  flow.  At  eleven  o'clock,  Madame  Blanchard 
rose  in  a  balloon  from  the  square  of  the  military  school, 
and  scattered  bulletins  over  Paris  announcing  the  particu- 
lars of  the  joyful  event.  A  chamberlain  was  placed  at 
the  door  of  the  palace  who  communicated  from  tune  to 
time  the  condition  of  the  empress  and  her  son,  to  the  im- 
mense crowds  who  still  besieged  its  portals.  In  contem- 
plating the  birth  of  the  king  of  Rome,  even  at  this  dis- 
tant day,  when  all  the  splendid  hopes  and  august  asso- 
ciations connected  with  it  have  passed  away  forever,  we 
cannot  fail  to  be  struck  with  the  singularity  of  destiny. 
What  stupendous  hopes  surrounded  that  infant  head ! 
And  yet,  how  sadly  were  they  all  blasted  by  the  disas- 
trous progress  of  events;  how  dark  and  cheerless  was  the 
early  setting  of  that  youthful  sun,  whose  rising  splendor 
was  so  gorgeous  and  magnificent ! 

Napoleon,  who  had  so  long  desired  a  son,  now  that  his 
K* 


£50  NAPOLEON'S  PRANKS. 

wish  was  gratified,  exhibited  as  that  son  grew  older  the 
strongest  paternal  feeling.  He  frequently  took  the  king 
of  Rome  into  his  arms  and  tossed  him  up  into  the  air. 
The  child  would  then  laugh  till  the  tears  stood  in  his 
eyes.  Sometimes  the  emperor  took  him  before  a  looking 
glass,  and  put  his  face  into  all  sorts  of  grimaces,  till  the 
child  would  cry  out  with  terror.  At  other  times  at 
table,  the  stern  conqueror  would  besmear  the  boy's  face 
with  gravy,  which  always  highly  amused  the  young  inno 
cent.  These  displays  of  youthful  happiness  and  of  child 
ish  affection,  remind  us  strongly  of  those  memorable  linea 
of  the  poet  Gray,  whose  truthfulness  to  nature  has  made 
them  household  words  to  all  generations : 

Alas !  regardless  of  their  doom, 

The  little  victims  play  ! 
No  sense  have  they  of  ills  to  come, 

No  care  beyond  to-day. 
Yet  see  how  all  around  them  wait, 
The  ministers  of  human  fate, 
And  black  misfortune's  baleful  train  ; 
Ah  !  show  them  where  in  ambush  stand 
To  seize  their  prey,  the  murderous  band  ; 

Ah  tell  them  they  are  men  t 

As  the  king  of  Rome  grew  in  years,  his  character  be- 
came more  interesting  and  remarkable.  His  intelligence 
and  spirit  were  unusual,  and  indicated  a  nature  of  more 
than  ordinary  talent  and  power.  He  possessed,  however, 
a  very  violent  temper.  His  governess,  Madame  de 
Montesquieu,  once  corrected  him  for  the  excessive  fury 
of  his  passion.  On  another  similar  occasion,  she  ordered 
all  the  shutters  of  the  windows  to  be  closed,  though  it 
was  broad  day  light.  The  ctild,  astonished  to  find  the 


MADAM  DE  MONTESQUIOU.  251 

light  of  day  excluded,  and  the  candles  lighted,  inquired 
the  reason  of  the  novel  proceedure.  "  In  order  that  no 
one  may  hear  you,  sire,"  she  replied.  "The  French 
would  never  have  you  for  their  king,  if  they  knew  you 
were  so  violent."  "  Have  I  cried  very  loud  ?  "  said  he, 
" and  did  they  hear  me ?  "  "I  fear  they  have,"  was  the 
answer.  He  then  fell  to  weeping,  and  throwing  his  arms 
around  his  governess'  neck,  said — "  I  will  never  do  so 
again,  Mamma  Quiou ;  pray  forgive  me ! " 

On  another  occasion,  later  in  his  history,  the  emperor 
took  his  son  to  a  review  in  the  Champ  de  Mars.  "  Was 
he  frightened  at  the  shouts  of  the  veteran  Guards?" 
inquired  the  empress.  "  Frightened  ?  no,  surely,"  replied 
Napoleon ;  "  he  knew  that  he  was  among  his  father's 
friends."  After  the  review  Napoleon  conversed  for  some 
time  with  the  architect,  Fontaine,  respecting  the  palace  to 
be  built  for  the  king  of  Rome  on  the  elevated  ground 
facing  the  military  school.  The  word  Rome  brought  to 
the  mind  of  the  emperor  the  fact  that  he  had  never  visit- 
ed the  eternal  city,  and  was  a  personal  stranger  to  its 
memorable  scenes.  "  But,"  said  he  "  I  shall  go  there 
some  day,  for  it  is  the  city  of  my  little  king."  Alas  !  the 
little  king,  for  whom  so  rich  an  inheritance  had  been  pre- 
pared, never  entered  upon  its  possession.  His  was  a  much 
smaller  domain  at  the  age  of  twenty-one — that  of  the 
grave. 

We  will  not  dwell  upon  the  succeeding  events  of  Na- 
poleon's career,  during  which  time  Maria  Louisa  remained 
his  nominal  wife.  The  short  reign  of  the  great  hero  iu 
his  diminutive  empire  at  Elba ;  his  return  to  France  in 
1815,  the  bold  and  desperate  daring  of  which,  took  the 


252          MEANNESS  OF  MARIA  LOUISA'S  NATURE. 

whole  world  by  surprise ;  his  wonderful  struggles  during 
the  hundred  days,  by  which  the  mastery  of  his  genius 
over  the  combined  diplomatists  and  soldiers  of  a  conti- 
nent, was  most  signally  apparent;  and  the  accidental 
though  ruinous  reverse  to  his  aspiring  fortunes  at  "Water- 
loo ;  these  events  are  too  familiar  to  all  men,  to  require  a 
repetition  here.  But  it  will  be  sufficient  to  remark,  that 
had  Maria  Louisa  possessed  the  least  spark  of  romance 
in  her  soul,  or  the  least  superiority  of  intellect,  or  the 
least  affection  for  her  immortal  spouse,  her  efforts  to 
spend  with  him  the  decline  of  life,  and  her  endeavors  to 
alleviate  his  sufferings,  would  have  added  to  the  history 
of  both  a  charm  and  an  attraction,  far  superior  to  any 
vhich  is  now  associated  with  their  names ! 

As  soon  as  the  influence  of  Napoleon's  mind  was  re- 
moved from  her's,  and  his  elevated  sentiments  no  longer 
inspired  her  conduct,  Maria  Louisa  displayed  the  true 
meanness  of  her  nature ;  and  that  was  done  apparently  in 
utter  and  innocent  unconsciousness  of  her  degradation  and 
her  debasement  in  the  estimation  of  the  world.  By  the 
treaty  of  Vienna  in  1815,  she  became  the  sovereign  of 
Parma  and  Modena.  Through  the  intrigues  of  her  own 
family,  an  Austrian  colonel  was  placed  in  connection  with 
her,  as  prune  minister,  with  the  covert  design  of  her 
seduction  and  disgrace  as  the  wife  of  Napoleon.  Count 
Niepberg  soon  accomplished  this  disgraceful  purpose,  and 
became  her  acknowledged  paramour.  She  had  two  chil- 
dren by  him ;  and  while  the  great  Napoleon  still  lived 
and  languished  on  the  bleak  height  of  Helena,  his  recre- 
ant wife  reveled  with  the  unprincipled  seducer  in  shame- 
less excesses,  amid  the  sumptuous  palaces  and  retreats  of 


DEATH  OF  THE  KING  OF  ROME.  253 

Parma.  After  a  few  years  Niepberg  died,  and  Maria 
Louisa  became  almost  frantic  at  his  loss.  Yet  after  a 
short  time  her  mind,  incapable  of  stability  and  of  exalted 
sentiment  of  any  kind,  solaced  itself  with  other  and  suc- 
cessive attachments.  Her  son,  the  Duke  of  Reichstadt, 
died  in  Vienna,  the  victim  of  the  state  craft  of  his  unnat- 
ural grandfather;  who  surrounded  him  with  various 
temptations  to  debauchery,  which,  through  the  adroitness 
of  Prince  Metternich,  were  so  skillfully  applied,  that  he 
soon  became  their  unconscious  victim,  and  died  a  prema- 
ture death.  His  mother,  disgraced  and  despised  by  all 
the  world,  soon  followed  him  to  the  tomb,  having  fur- 
nished in  her  life  a  memorable  evidence  of  the  fact,  that 
ignoble  minds,  however  much  they  may  have  been  eleva- 
ted for  a  time  above  their  kindred  degradation,  by  con- 
nection with  more  exalted  natures,  when  that  better  in- 
fluence is  removed  will  relapse  again  to  that  condition, 
which  possesses  greater  consonance  with  their  own  inborn 
and  ineradicable  baseness.  And  among  the  existing  in- 
stances in  which  greatness  has  been  thrust  upon  its  pos- 
sessors, and  persons  of  the  most  ordinary  qualities  have 
become  the  object  of  the  curiosity,  wonder  and  congratu- 
lation of  the  civilized  world,  the  case  of  Maria  Louisa  is 
probably  the  most  remarkable ;  for  without  the  aid  of 
her  exalted  birth,  and  her  stih"  more  exalted  alliance  in 
marriage,  she  would  inevitably  have  passed  down  to  the 
shades  of  the  common  oblivion,  without  having  scarcely 
excited  a  remark,  or  generated  an  emotion ! 


CHAPTER   XI. 

EXPEDITION    OF    NAPOLEON   IN   BUSS  [A. 

NAPOLEON,  having  determined  upon  the  invasion  of 
Russia,  immediately  prepared  to  achieve  that  gigantic 
enterprise.  Well  might  even  his  stupendous  genius  hesi- 
tate and  reconsider  its  purpose,  when  contemplating  an 
expedition  more  astounding  and  audacious  than  any  ever 
before  conceived  by  the  human  mind.  Russia  was  at  that 
time  the  most  formidable  opponent  whom  he  could  con- 
front in  Europe.  The  three  hundred  Spartans  stemming 
the  mighty  tide  of  Persian  invasion  at  the  strait  of 
Thermopylae ;  or  Caesar  crossing  the  Rubicon  with  his 
legions,  thus  bidding  defiance  to  the  hostile  power  of 
Rome ;  or  Cortez  with  five  hundred  Spaniards,  invading 
the  vast  empire  of  Mexico ;  these  and  other  renowned 
instances  of  desperate  and  intrepid  adventure,  were  trifles 
in  comparison  with  the  vastness,  grandeur,  and  heroism  of 
Napoleon's  invasion  of  Russia ;  a  country  containing  at 
that  time  fifty  millions  of  inhabitants,  an  army  of  five  hun- 
dred thousand  men,  with  the  howling  tempests,  the  furi- 
ous snow  storms,  and  the  intense  cold  of  a  Russian  win- 
ter, superadded  to  the  infernal  horrors  of  the  scene. 

Yet  all  these  obstacles  did  not  for  a  moment  daunt  the 
fearless  "  child  of  destiny."  The  solemn  and  mysterious 
voice  of  fate,  still  seemed  to  say  to  him  in  audible  tones  : 
"Onward!  to  the  city  of  the  czars!  All  Europe  will 


MAGNITUDE  OF  THE  ENTERPRISE.  255 

then  be  beneath  your  feet,"  and  that  voice  he  had  sworn 
to  obey,  whether  it  whispered  to  him  beneath  the  fair 
skies  of  Italy,  amid  the  sandy  waste  of  Egypt,  on  the 
fruitful  plains  of  Spain,  or  amid  the  cheerless  snows  of 
Russia. 

Napoleon  set  off  on  this  memorable  expedition,  from 
Paris,  in  the  month  of  May,  1812,  accompanied  by  Maria 
Louisa ;  who  had  expressed  a  desire  to  see  her  father. 
Austria  was  at  that  time  in  alliance  with  France.  Toward 
the  Vistula,  as  to  a  common  center,  were  then  moving  by 
the  emperor's  command,  countless  multitudes  of  troops, 
cavalry,  artillery,  carriages,  provisions  and  baggage  of 
every  description ;  and  the  grand  army  composed  of 
nearly  six  hundred  thousand  troops,  well  equipped,  and 
experienced  in  war,  commanded  by  Napoleon  himself, 
assisted  by  his  most  celebrated  marshals,  was  an  arma- 
ment unequaled  for  effectiveness  in  the  whole  history  of 
warfare.  The  millions  of  imbecile  Persians  who  once 
deluged  Greece,  under  the  command  of  Xerxes;  the 
hostile  hosts  which  combatted  at  Cannae  and  Pharsalia  ; 
the  Ottoman  force  which  beseiged  Vienna,  and  which 
was  scattered  to  the  winds  by  John  Sobieski ;  all  these 
were  inferior  to  the  stupendous  and  well  appointed 
armament  which  now  marshaled  under  the  orders  of  the 
modern  Achilles,  and  boldly  menaced  the  capital  and  the 
throne  of  the  czars.  Yet  that  immense  host,  and  its  re- 
nowned commander,  were  marching  under  the  fatal  spell 
of  an  evil  genius ;  and  were  allured  by  splendid  chimeras, 
onward  to  the  vortex  of  inevitable  ruin. 

During  the  short  residence  of  Napoleon  at  Dresden,  a 
scene  of  magnificence  and  splendor  was  presented,  to 


256  SPLENDID  SCENES  AT  DRESDEN. 

which  no  parallel  can  be  found  in  modern  history.  The 
once  humble  Corsican  was  surrounded  with  a  degree  of 
glory  and  grandeur  which  had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  no  hu- 
man being  before  or  since,  whether  he  was  born  the  heir 
of  kings,  or  of  beggars.  Napoleon  occupied  the  palace 
of  the  ancient  monarchs  of  Saxony,  surrounded  by  his 
marshals,  generals,  and  all  the  brilliant  male  and  female 
members  of  his  court.  Day  after  day,  and  night  after 
night,  the  most  splendid  fetes  were  given  him,  while 
adulation  and  homage  more  profound  than  had  ever  be- 
fore been  offered  to  a  sovereign  were  lavished  upon  him. 
An  innumerable  crowd  of  courtiers,  generals,  ministers, 
princes,  dukes,  and  even  kings,  swarmed  assiduously 
around  him,  upon  whom  he,  in  return,  not  only  bestowed 
benignant  smiles,  but  lavished  rich  gifts,  worthy  of  the 
munificence  of  so  great  a  conqueror.  It  is  related  that 
on  several  occasions  as  many  as  four  sovereigns  of  great 
states,  were  waiting  patiently  at  the  same  time  in  his 
ante-chamber.  Many  queens  were  proud  of  the  dignity 
of  being  maids  of  honor  to  Maria  Louisa.  The  streets 
were  thronged  with  splendid  equipages,  passing  to  and 
fro,  from  audiences  asked  and  happily  obtained  from  this 
king  of  kings ;  while  the  rapid  departure  and  arrival  of 
messengers  and  couriers  to  every  part  of  Europe,  indica- 
ted the  vast  supervision  exercised  by  him  over  the  greater 
portion  of  the  European  kingdoms.  Then  indeed  had 
the  power  of  this  wondrous  adventurer  reached  a  pinna- 
cle, unequaled  by  that  of  any  other  mortal ;  for  his  impe- 
rious will  alone  seemed  to  determine  the  conduct  and  the 
fate  of  five  hundred  millions  of  the  human  race,  who  re- 
ceived with  mingled  curiosity  and  apprehension  whatever 


A  PASSAGE  OF  THE  NIEMEN.  257 

he  might  decree  respecting  their  interests  and  their 
fate. 

On  the  24th  of  June,  1812,  the  grand  army  passed  the 
Niemen  by  three  bridges,  which  had  been  erected  by  the 
orders  of  Napoleon ;  and  thus  they  set  their  foot  for  the 
first  time  upon  the  forbidden  territory  of  their  great  foe. 
Two  entire  days  were  occupied  with  the  passage  of  the 
troops.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men  at  that 
single  point  marched  under  the  order  of  Napoleon ;  and 
never  before  had  a  more  magnificent  display  of  all  the 
glorious  yet  delusive  pomp  and  circumstance  of  war  been 
made.  The  French  army  passed  this  fatal  boundary  line 
in  high,  exulting  hope,  anticipating  a  brilliant  and  triumph- 
ant campaign,  and  the  speedy  subjugation  of  the  power 
of  Russia.  In  six  months  alas !  how  sad  and  frightful  a 
wreck  of  this  once  splendid  armament,  tottered  back 
again  to  the  banks  of  this  same  river,  a  few  exhausted 
and  straggling  thousands  whom  the  sword  of  the  aveng- 
ing foe,  and  the  more  relentless  and  deadly  embrace  of 
a  Russian  winter,  had  spared  to  tell  the  tale  of  the  unex- 
pected ruin  of  this  great  and  brave  armament. 

It  is  said  that  the  emperor  Alexander  of  Russia  was  at 
a  ball  in  the  neighborhood  of  Wilna,  when  he  first  heard 
that  the  French  army  had  at  length  crossed  the  Niemen, 
and  invaded  his  territory.  He  immediately  issued  a  proc- 
lamation, calling  upon  his  faithful  subjects  to  defend  their 
country  and  their  religion ;  and  concluded  it  by  declaring 
that  he  himself  would  not  sheathe  his  sword  as  long  as  an 
enemy  remained  within  the  Russian  dominions.  The 
policy  which  he  had  determined  to  adopt  on  this  memora- 
ble occasion,  was  one  which  proves  the  sagacity  and  pr> 

17 


258  THE  POLICY  OF  ALEXANDER  I. 

found  wisdom  of  Alexander,  to  which  his  own  triumph 
and  the  ultimate  defeat-  of  his  foe  are  alone  attributable. 

Had  Alexander  determined  to  resist  the  invader  upon 
the  field,  he  would  have  been  vanquished ;  for  Napoleon's 
ability  as  a  commander  was  unequaled  ;  his  military  force 
was  in  perfect  discipline  and  effectiveness ;  and  defeat  af- 
ter defeat  would  have  been  the  inevitable  result  of  a  rash 
purpose  to  confront  directly  so  great  a  general  with 
so  powerful  an  army.  Alexander  wisely  resolved  differ- 
ently. His  purpose  was  to  retire  slowly  with  his  armies 
as  the  invader  advanced ;  never  to  risk  the  hazard  of  a 
general  engagement ;  thus  to  preserve  his  troops  unim- 
paired, until  the  period  for  the  summer  campaign  being 
ended,  the  terrible  fury  of  a  Russian  winter  would  de- 
scend upon  the  presumptuous  foe,  and  inflict  that  penalty 
which  no  mortal  hand  seemed  to  possess  the  ability  to 
accomplish. 

The  wisdom  of  this  policy  began  immediately  to  dis- 
play itself.  After  passing  the  Niemen,  the  first  city  of 
importance  on  the  route  of  the  French  army  was  Wilua 
Napoleon  entered  it  on  the  28th  of  June ;  and  at  the 
same  moment  Barclay  de  Tolly,  the  Russian  general, 
deserted  it  by  the  opposite  gate.  But  ere  Napoleon 
reached  Wilna,  he  was  compelled  to  pass  through  a  terri- 
tory which  his  foe  had  already  desolated;  his  horses 
perished  by  thousands  from  the  want  of  wholesome  prov- 
ender; and  twenty-five  thousand  sick  and  dying  men 
already  filled  the  hospitals  of  Wilna.  It  was  not  yet  too 
late  for  him  who  was  so  boldly  defiant  of  God  and  man 
to  recede  from  the  brink  of  ruin ;  but  the  lesson  was  in 
vain. 


NAPOLEON  AT  VITEPSK.  259 

After  an  imprudent  delay  of  seventeen  days  at  Wilna, 
Napoleon  resumed  his  march  toward  Moscow.  On  the 
26th  of  July  he  reached  Vitepsk,  and  endeavored  to  draw 
the  Russian  commander,  Barclay,  into  a  general  engage- 
ment. On  the  evening  of  the  27th,  the  latter  seemed  to 
be  preparing  to  meet  the  invader  in  the  lai'ge  plain  which 
surrounds  the  city.  During  the  night  the  watch  fires  in 
the  Russian  camp  continued  to  burn  with  their  wonted 
brilliancy.  On  the  morning  of  the  28th,  however,  no 
trace  of  the  Russian  army  could  be  found  in  the  camp. 
To  the  astonishment  of  Napoleon,  during  the  night, 
Barclay  had  effected  a  retreat  in  such  excellent  order, 
that  not  the  slightest  sound  had  been  heard,  even  by  the 
watchful  Murat  who  had  bivouacked  with  the  advanced 
post  of  the  French  army.  The  great  conqueror  had 
again  been  eluded  by  his  intended  victim,  who  had  thus 
adroitly  slipped  once  more  from  his  deadly  grasp. 

While  Napoleon  halted  at  Vitepsk,  he  received  infor- 
mation which  by  no  means  served  to  increase  his  enthu- 
siasm. He  there  learned  that  the  Russian  emperor  had 
concluded  a  treaty  of  peace  with  the  Turks ;  which  at 
once  rendered  a  large  army  of  some  fifty  thousand  men, 
then  employed  on  the  Danube,  available  against  his 
French  foe.  The  latter  also  learned,  that  the  czar  had 
concluded  a  treaty  with  Sweden,  by  which  means  Berna- 
dotte,  the  sovereign  of  that  country,  was  detached  from 
the  interests  of  Napoleon,  and  rendered  at  least  neutral 
in  the  present  conflict. 

These  were  events  of  great  importance  to  the  French 
emperor ;  and  these,  together  with  the  immense  losses 
of  men  and  horses  which  he  had  already  suffered,  and 


260  HIS  PAINFUL  SUSPENSE. 

the  advanced  stage  of  the  season,  induced  some  of  Na- 
poleon's more  prudent  and  experienced  marshals  to  ad- 
vise him  to  advance  no  further  into  the  Russian  territory ; 
but  to  defer  his  invasion  until  the  succeeding  spring,  and 
to  agree  to  a  temporary  armistice  with  Alexander. 

The  great  mind  of  Napoleon  was,  on  this  occasion, 
strangely  and  painfully  agitated  by  conflicting  purposes. 
Many  grave  considerations  proclaimed  the  propriety  and 
justice  of  these  more  prudent  counsels.  He  had  already 
lost  many  thousands  of  men,  by  the  inevitable  vicissitudes 
of  the  campaign.  He  had  discovered  in  the  Russian 
commanders  and  troops,  a  degree  of  desperate  heroism 
which  he  had  not  anticipated.  He  already  found  it  ex- 
ceedingly diflicult  to  obtain  the  necessary  provisions  for 
his  immense  host.  He  was  surrounded  by  a  hostile  and 
treacherous  population ;  and  above  all,  the  indescribable 
horrors  of  a  Russian  winter  would  soon  overwhelm  his 
exhausted  troops. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  was  then  but  the  middle  of  sum- 
mer. Ought  the  hero  of  Austerlitz  to  take  up  his  winter 
quarters,  in  the  month  of  July  ?  Besides,  by  pressing  for- 
ward he  would  soon  arrive  beneath  the  walls  of  Moscow ; 
and  there,  in  a  great  and  decisive  battle,  he  would  meet 
and  vanquish  his  foe  ;  he  would  dethrone  the  hostile  and 
humbled  Czar ;  he  would  enter  Moscow  in  triumph ;  he 
would  then  himself  wield  the  scepter  of  the  Russian  em- 
pire, and  would  date  his  decrees  to  the  four  quarters  of 
Europe  from  the  Kremlin,  the  ancient  palace  and  citadel 
of  the  Muscovite  kings.  Then,  after  a  winter  spent 
amid  the  frozen  splendors  of  that  northern  capital,  he 


HE  RESOLVES  TO  ADVANCE.  261 

would  return  with  triumphant  eagles  to  the  sumptuous 
halls  of  St.  Cloud. 

It  is  said,  that  while  Napoleon  balanced  in  his  mind 
the  relative  weight  of  the  arguments  on  both  sides  of 
this  great  and  momentous  question,  he  was  agitated  as 
he  never  before  had  been.  For  several  days  his  mind 
was  in  a  terrific  state  of  excitement.  He  slept  neither 
by  night  nor  by  day.  He  could  not  rest  for  a  moment. 
He  could  bear  no  clothing  upon  his  bed ;  but  during  the 
hours  of  darkness,  rolled  and  tossed  in  ceaseless  agitation, 
weighing  in  his  mind  the  doubtful  probabilities  of  the 
great  venture  before  him.  At  length,  after  several  days 
of  painful  uncertainty,  he  arrived  at  the  determination 
to  advance.  "  We  must  be  in  Moscow  in  a  month,"  said 
he,  "  or  we  will  never  be  there.  Peace  awaits  us  only 
under  its  walls."  The  die  was  then  cast ;  and  his  desti- 
ny must  needs  be  fulfilled. 

Giving  the  general  order  to  advance,  his  troops  arrived 
under  their  respective  leaders,  on  the  16th  of  August, 
before  the  ancient  walls  of  Smolensko.  The  two  most 
able  generals  of  the  cza~,  Barclay  de  Tolly  and  Prince 
Bagrathion,  had  succeeded,  after  some  severe  skirmishes 
with  the  enemy,  in  reaching  thig  venerable  fortress,  and 
in  throwing  their  troops  within  its  walls.  This  city  is 
situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Dnieper.  Its  fortifications 
were  old,  but  were  still  able  to  resist  the  shock  of  artillery. 
The  Russian  generals  appear  at  first  to  have  resolved  to 
defend  the  city  to  the  la?;t  extremity.  An  ancient  wall 
thirty-five  feet  high,  and  eighteen  feet  thick,  surrounded 
the  whole  city,  which  presented  an  appearance  in  the 
highest  degree  picturesque.  The  most  prominent  build 


262  NAPOLEON  AT  SMOLENSKO. 

ings,  among  the  many  which  still  remained  as  monu- 
ments of  former  Sarmatian  splendor,  were  the  citadel  and 
the  cathedral.  The  former  was  chiefly  conspicuous  for 
its  size.  The  latter  was  a  venerable  and  majestic  edifice 
surmounted  by  vast  gilded  domes,  and  adorned  with  lofty 
spires  which  glittered  afar  in  the  beams  of  the  sun. 
From  the  spire  of  this  cathedral  the  Russian  generals  be- 
held the  hosts  of  the  French  hero  as  they  successively 
arrived  in  immense  masses,  resplendent  with  steed  and 
gold,  and  all  the  glittering  trappings  of  war.  As  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach  even  with  the  aid  of  the  telescope,  the 
plain  around  Smolensko  was  covered  with  the  martial 
hosts.  From  their  high  perch  the  Russian  generals 
anxiously  surveyed  the  scene ;  and  endeavored  to  com- 
pute the  magnitude  and  power  of  the  armament  thus 
brought  to  bear  against  the  beleaguered  city.  In  silence 
and  with  the  utmost  precision,  division  after  division 
wheeled  into  its  appropriate  place ;  and  two  hundred 
thousand  men  were  ready  to  advance  to  the  attack  of 
Smolensko,  defended  by  a  hundred  thousand  troops  under 
the  command  of  the  Russian  generals. 

The  latter  after  a  long  and  anxious  survey  of  the 
French  forces  from  the  gilded  spires  of  the  cathedral, 
determined  not  to  stand  the  hazard  of  a  siege,  but  to  with- 
draw from  Smolensko,  and  continue  the  retreat  toward 
Moscow.  The  Russian  troops  accordingly  defiled  out  of 
the  city  on  the  only  side  which  was  uninvested  by  the 
French,  the  one  which  led  to  Moscow.  Bagrathion  com- 
manded the  retreat;  Barclay  de  Tolly  defended  the 
walls. 

When   Napoleon  discovered  the  intention  of  the  Rus- 


SIEGE  OF  SMOLENSKO.  263 

rians  still  to  retreat,  he  was  exasperated  beyond  measure ; 
and  he  determined  at  once  to  order  a  general  assault. 
At  two  o'clock  Marshal  Ney  attacked  the  great  citadel. 
At  the  same  time  Davoust  led  his  division  against  the 
ramparts.  Poniatowsky  brought  sixty  pieces  of  artillery 
to  bear  upon  the  bridges  which  connected  both  sides  of 
the  city  over  the  Dneiper.  The  Russians  were  prepared 
to  receive  their  assailants.  In  vain  their  batteries  thun- 
dered against  the  ancient  walls  eighteen  feet  in  thickness. 
In  vain  did  Ney  "  the  bravest  of  the  brave,"  attack  the 
citadel.  The  utmost  exertions  of  the  assailants  availed 
nothing  against  the  combined  power  of  the  fortress  and 
the  heroism  of  its  defenders.  At  length  night  came,  and 
Napoleon  had  not  yet  won  victory  to  his  standards.  At 
seven  in  the  evening  he  called  off  his  troops  from  the 
hopeless  attack.  The  Russians  had  successfully  resisted 
the  seventy  thousand  men  whom  Napoleon  had  led  for- 
ward to  the  assault,  during  which  he  had  lost  fifteen 
thousand  men. 

At  nine  o'clock  hi  the  evening,  total  silence  pervaded 
both  camps  ;  but  soon  an  appalling  spectacle  was  present- 
ed to  the  view  of  the  besiegers.  Their  red-hot  balls  had 
set  fire  to  some  wooden  buildings  within  the  ramparts, 
and  soon  the  lurid  flames  of  a  vast  conflagration  illumined 
the  darkness  of  the  whole  horizon.  The  fire  rapidly  ex- 
tended toward  a  more  central  part  of  the  city.  High 
above  the  tumultuous  ocean  of  flame  and  smoke,  towered 
the  glittering  domes  of  the  cathedral,  which  they  seemed 
in  vain  to  assail.  As  the  conflagration  increased,  its  ex- 
tending flames  threw  a  clearer  light  over  the  assembled 
hosts  who  peopled  the  plains  around,  and  who  gazed  in 


264  RETREAT  OF  THE  RUSSIANS. 

silent  awe  and  wonder  upon  a  scene  of  such  terror  and 
sublimity.  But  even  this  scene  was  but  an  humble  pre- 
cursor of  one  of  far  greater  magnitude  and  terror,  which 
they  were  destined  afterward  to  behold. 

The  Russians  retreated  from  Smolensko  during  the 
whole  of  this  memorable  night,  along  the  Moscow  road. 
When  morning  dawned  Davoust  penetrated  without  any 
resistance  within  the  walls,  and  found  a  deserted  city. 
The  French  troops  however  saw  nothing  but  desolation 
and  ruin  on  every  side.  The  Russians  had  even  destroy- 
ed the  magazines,  and  left  nothing  to  the  possession  of 
the  invaders,  but  naked  walls  and  mouldering  masses  of 
ruin. 

On  the  22d  of  August  Napoleon  left  Smolensko,  and 
advanced  with  his  army  on  the  road  to  Moscow.  Al- 
ready that  capital  began  to  tremble  with  terror,  as  the 
dread  conqueror  approached  nearer  and  nearer  to  her 
walls.  No  city,  not  even  Rome  with  Hannibal  thunder- 
ing at  her  gates,  was  ever  agitated  with  so  intense  a 
dread,  as  was  the  ancient  capital  of  Russia,  when  the 
news  arrived  that  Napoleon  with  three  hundred  thou- 
sand troops  had  left  Smolensko,  and  resumed  his  march 
for  Moscow.  At  this  crisis  an  aged  and  experienced  gen- 
eral of  Russian  birth  returned  to  that  city  from  his  con- 
quests on  the  confines  of  Turkey ;  and  to  him,  the  univer- 
sal voice  of  the  nation  requested  the  emperor  Alexander 
to  confide  the  supreme  command.  This  veteran  was 
Kutusoff.  It  was  thought  that  his  great  talents,  and  hia 
greater  experience  would  aiford  a  surer  presage  of  victo  • 
ry,  under  the  unparalleled  circumstance  of  peril  and  dis- 
aster which  seemed  to  threaten  the  Russian  throne  and 


KUTUSOFF.  265 

empire  at  that  moment.  Since  the  days  of  the  dauntless 
Suwarrow,  no  Russian  general  had  won  so  many  great 
triumphs  over  the  Turks,  or  had  given  so  many  proofs 
of  unconquerable  heroism,  as  he  had  done  during  a  long 
life  of  vicissitude  and  warlike  adventure. 

Since  the  entrance  of  Napoleon  into  Russia  the  em- 
peror Alexander  had  ordered  his  generals  not  to  venture 
upon  a  general  engagement.  But  as  the  French  ap- 
proached Moscow — now  only  fifty  leagues  distant,  the 
increasing  panic  of  its  inhabitants  imperatively  demanded 
that  the  invader  should  be  met  in  the  field ;  and  the  ap- 
pointment of  Kutusoff  to  the  supreme  command  was  a 
proof  that  a  great  battle  was  at  length  determined  upon 
by  the  Russian  monarch.  The  memorable  field  of  JBoro- 
dino  lay  in  the  pathway  of  Napoleon,  ere  he  could  place 
his  eager  hand  on  the  crown  of  Russia,  deposited  in  the 
treasure-chamber  of  the  Kremlin ;  and  to  that  spot  the 
forces  of  the  czar  were  now  concentrated,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  confronting  the  foe. 

On  the  5th  of  September  the  head  of  Napoleon's  col- 
umns came  in  sight  of  the  humble  village,  whose  name 
has  since  become  immortal  on  one  of  the  bloodiest  pages 
of  history.  When  evening  came,  the  watchfires  of  both 
armies  shed  a  gloomy  light  over  an  immense  plain,  form- 
ing two  vast  opposing  semi-circles,  which  closed  in  the 
whole  horizon  on  both  sides.  The  hostile  armies  passed 
a  sleepless  night.  They  were  on  the  eve  of  one  of  the 
great  decisive  battles  of  the  world,  which  was  to  control 
the  future  fate  of  millions.  Napoleon  passed  the  night 
in  his  tent,  alternately  racked  by  anxious  thoughts  and 
fearful  forebodings  of  the  future ;  and  with  emotions  of 


266  BORODINO. 

tenderness  as  he  gazed  with  rapture  on  the  portrait  of 
his  fair  child,  the  king  of  Rome,  which  Isabey  had  com 
pleted  since  his  departure  from  Paris,  and  which  had  but 
a  day  or  two  before  arrived  in  his  camp. 

At  length  the  long  and  tedious  night  passed  away,  and 
the  morning  sun  shone  brightly  on  the  hostile  hosts.  It 
was  the  sun  of  Borodino,  forever  memorable  in  the  annals 
of  blood  and  all  the  horrors  of  war  !  Early  in  the  morn- 
ing Napoleon  rode  along  the  far-reaching  lines  of  his 
grim  warriors,  and  encouraged  them  with  words  of  confi- 
dence which  he  did  not  himself  feel ;  for  already  the  un- 
expected disasters  of  the  campaign  had  much  diminished 
his  first  assurance  in  its  ultimate  issue.  He  reminded 
them  that  they  were  the  unconquered  heroes  of  Austerlitz 
and  Friedland ;  that  this  was  the  last  great  battle  to  be 
fought  by  them,  before  Moscow  opened  her  gorgeous 
gates  to  receive  them ;  and  that  a  triumph  now  would 
insure  the  speedy  end  of  their  toils,  and  their  quick  re- 
turn to  their  native  France.  His  words  were  received 
with  shouts  of  rapture  and  exultation  by  the  whole 
army.  * 

In  the  Russian  camp  a  somewhat  similar  scene  was 
enacted  on  the  morning  of  this  great  day.  A  large  con- 
course of  Russian  priests,  headed  by  a  prelate  of  high 
rank,  who  carried  in  his  arms  an  image  reputed  to  pos- 
sess miraculous  power,  passed  along  the  ranks,  which  knelt 
as  they  approached.  The  prelate  blessed  the  prostrate 
warriors  as  they  lay ;  and  as  the  procession  returned 
along  the  lines,  the  swelling  sound  of  sacred  melody 
chaunted  by  the  strong  voices  of  the  priests,  ascended 
upon  the  morning  air,  and  floated  sweetly  over  the  plain 


COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  BATTLE.  267 

BO  soon  to  be  deeply  deluged  with  human  blood.  Kutu- 
soff  himself  rode  along  the  lines,  and  by  his  dauntless  yet 
solemn  air,  infused  new  courage  and  devotion  into  the 
hearts  of  his  warriors.  The  impressive  sounds  of  prayer 
and  praise  as  uttered  by  the  Russian  priests  and  soldiers, 
were  even  wafted  by  the  breeze  to  the  French  camp,  and 
did  not  fail  to  call  forth  the  ridicule  and  satire  of  the 
gay  and  irreverent  children  of  the  Seine. 

Thus  fortified  according  to  their  respective  tastes  for 
the  terrific  scenes  before  them,  the  two  armies  prepared 
for  battle.  Their  strength  was  nearly  equal.  The  Rus- 
sian force  consisted  of  one  hundred  and  thirty  thousand 
men,  together  with  six  hundred  and  fifty  pieces  of  artil- 
lery. The  French  army  was  about  equal  to  these  in  num- 
ber, with  a  similar  quantity  of  artillery ;  though  thirty 
thousand  of  the  French  troops  were  cavalry,  which  gave 
them  some  advantage  over  their  opponents. 

The  Russians  had  fortified  themselves  in  a  strong  po- 
sition hi  and  around  the  village  of  Borodino.  In  the 
center  they  had  erected  a  great  redoubt  which  mounted 
a  hundred  guns.  Around  this  work  the  most  bloody  and 
desperate  conflicts  of  the  day  were  destined  to  take  place. 
By  Napoleon's  orders,  the  fierce  Davoust  commenced  the 
battle  by  advancing  against  the  Russian  lines  on  the  right. 
Slowly  and  steadily  his  columns  approached  the  terrific 
line  of  flame  which  already  marked  the  position  of  the 
Russian  batteries.  Before  reaching  them,  Davoust  had 
his  horse  shot  under  him,  and  Generals  Rapp  and  Desaix 
were  wounded.  Confusion  began  to  prevail  among  tho 
advancing  host,  but  they  were  reassured  by  the  loud 
clarion  voice  of  their  dauntless  leader,  and  were  again  led 


268  THE  FURY  OF  THE  CONFLICT. 

forward  to  the  attack.  After  a  fierce  struggle  the  re- 
doubts on  the  Russian  left  were  taken,  and  Davoust  estab- 
lished himself  in  the  position  wrested  from  the  foe. 

The  center  of  the  French  army  was  led  on  by  Marshal 
Ney.  He  ordered  three  divisions  to  advance,  supported 
by  ten  thousand  cavalry  under  Murat ;  and  protected  by 
seventy  pieces  of  artillery.  They  were  opposed  by  the 
flower  of  the  Russian  troops  under  Prince  Bagrathion. 
Soon  the  French  columns  came  within  range  of  the  terri- 
ble deluge  of  shot  and  shell  which  was  belched  forth  from 
the  Russian  batteries.  On  the  heights  of  Borodino,  un- 
daunted by  the  fearful  havoc  made  in  their  lines,  which 
crumbled  like  frost-work  beneath  the  Russian  fire,  they 
still  advanced.  Whole  files  and  companies  were  swept 
down  by  the  murderous  flood ;  but  the  cavities  were  in- 
stantly filled  up,  and  still  the  tide  of  dauntless  warriors 
rolled  onward.  On  the  heights  of  Borodino  the  most 
terrific  conflict  took  place  perhaps  recorded  in  the  history 
of  warfare.  After  four  hours  of  desperate  fighting  the 
Russians  still  maintained  their  position ;  and  Marshal  Ney 
anxiously  demanded  from  Napoleon  reinforcements  to 
enable  him  to  maintain  his  position.  Napoleon  ordered 
the  Young  Guard,  all  the  cavalry  yet  in  reserve,  and  four 
hundred  pieces  of  cannon  to  advance,  and  to  assail  the 
great  redoubt  in  the  Russian  center.  Prince  Eugene  had 
already  narrowly  escaped  being  captured  at  the  head  of 
his  column,  which  had  saved  themselves  only  by  forming 
into  squares,  and  thus  presenting  an  impenetrable  barrier 
to  the  attacks  of  the  Russian  cuirassiers. 

The  immense  reinforcement  ordered  by  Napoleon 
against  the  Russian  center,  after  prodigious  conflicts  and 


THE  GREAT  CENTRAL  REDOUBT.  269 

immense  losses  from  the  artillery  of  the  foe,  succeeded  in 
driving  back  the  Russian  line.  At  this  crisis  Prince  Ba- 
grathion  perceiving  the  advantage  gained  by  the  French, 
ordered  the  whole  left  wing  to  advance  to  the  attack. 
Then  occurred  one  of  those  tremendous  shocks  of  battle 
beneath  which  the  very  earth  itself  trembles.  Eighty 
thousand  men  and  seven  hundred  pieces  of  artillery  con- 
tended on  the  plain  during  the  space  of  an  hour  for  deadly 
mastery ;  and  prodigious  feats  of  heroism,  of  desperate 
valor,  of  undying  resolution,  on  both  sides,  to  triumph  or 
to  perish,  were  exhibited.  Blood  flowed  over  the  surface 
of  the  battle-field  in  torrents.  Thousands  of  the  dying 
and  the  dead  lay  heaped  in  piles,  before,  around,  and  be- 
neath the  surviving  combatants ;  and  it  seemed  that  noth- 
ing could  terminate  the  furious  and  deadly  conflict,  ex- 
cept the  entire  destruction  of  the  contending  hosts. 

At  length  Prince  Bagrathion  being  severely  wounded, 
the  Russian  ranks  began  to  give  way.  They  withdrew 
with  all  their  artillery  from  their  first  position,  and  estab- 
lished themselves  in  its  rear,  in  the  ravine  of  Semenowsky. 
Still  the  great  redoubt  in  the  center  remained  untaken. 
Napoleon  with  his  eagle  eye,  readily  discovered  the  im- 
portance of  that  point,  and  about  the  middle  of  the  day, 
he  ordered  Eugene,  with  two  hundred  cannon,  to  advance 
together  with  Monbran's  division  of  cuirassiers  to  pene- 
trate the  Russian  line,  and  wheeling  round,  to  enter  the 
entrenchment  through  its  gorge.  It  was  defended  by  the 
regiment  of  Osterman ;  and  soon  the  redoubt  was  envel- 
oped in  a  vast  cloud  of  flame  and  smoke,  through  which 
the  glittering  steel  trappings  of  the  cuirassiers  were  seen 
at  intervals,  gradually  ascending  its  slopes,  and  approach- 


0^0  THE  VICTORY  OF  THE  FRENCH. 

ing  its  summit.  After  a  prodigious  conflict  the  redoubt 
was  won ;  but  not  until  the  regiment  which  defended  it 
were  entirely  massacred  by  the  savage  onslaught  of  the 
French.  They  refused  to  give  or  to  receive  any  quarter ; 
and  the  whole  of  the  corps  of  Osterman  were  slain  within 
the  works,  which  they  had  so  heroically  defended. 

Driven  to  madness  by  the  loss  of  their  main  fortress, 
the  Russian  lines  which  had  taken  up  their  position  in  its 
rear  now  again  advanced,  determined  if  possible,  by  un- 
heard-of efforts,  to  retrieve  the  fortunes  of  the  day,  Kutu- 
soff  himself  led  on  the  attack.  In  admirable  order  they 
advanced  toward  the  works  which  they  had  lost,  which 
were  now  manned  by  the  victorious  French,  whence 
eighty  pieces  of  cannon  thundered  against  their  approach- 
ing ranks.  They  succeeded  in  taking  some  of  the  smaller 
redoubts;  but  their  heroism  was  in  vain.  Thousands 
fell  upon  the  field,  displaying  a  degree  of  resolution  un- 
equaled  in  war,  but  without  effect.  Distressed  at  the 
fruitless  and  hopelessjbutchery  resulting  from  his  advance, 
Kutusoff  at  length  gave  the  order  to  retire,  and  resumed 
his  former  position  on  the  heights,  hi  the  rear  of  the  works 
won  by  the  French.  Seeing  no  decisive  advantage  gamed 
either  on  the  Russian  right  or  left,  toward  the  close  of 
the  day,  he  ordered  a  general  retrograde  movement  of 
the  whole  line  to  the  works  in  the  rear  of  those  which 
had  been  occupied  by  the  Russians  at  the  beginning  of 
the  conflict ;  and  thus,  when  the  shades  of  evening  settled 
down  over  the  ensanguined  plain,  the  whole  line  of  the 
first  Russian  positions  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the 
French. 

Once  during  the  progress  of  this  memorable  day,  victo- 


IMMENSE  COST  OF  THE  VICTORY.  271 

ry  seemed  about  to  perch  upon  the  standards  of  the  Rus- 
sians, and  to  desert  the  proud  invader.  Kutusoff  seeing 
the  weakness  of  Napoleon's  left,  ordered  Ouvaroff,  with 
eight  regiments  of  Cossacks,  to  cross  the  Kolotza,  a 
stream  in  front  of  the  Russian  lines,  and  attack  the  left 
of  the  French.  The  impetuous  and  savage  fury  of  the 
Cossacks  was  irresistible,  and  the  French  lines,  then  un- 
supported by  the  artillery  which  had  been  dispatched 
against  the  grand  redoubts,  wavered,  broke,  and  retreated 
before  their  desperate  assault.  The  whole  French  line 
began  to  give  way.  Napoleon,  from  the  eminence  on 
which  he  stood,  saw  by  the  aid  of  his  spy-glass  the  great- 
ness of  the  disaster ;  and  his  imperial  cheek  was  paled 
with  terror.  The  trembling  phantoms  of  royalty  and  vic- 
tory appeared  about  to  desert  his  standards;  and  the 
wan  finger  of  destiny  seemed  for  a  moment  to  point  to- 
ward destruction  as  his  doom.  Then  it  was  that  he  him- 
self rapidly  rode  to  his  wavering  lines,  accompanied  by 
the  cavalry  and  artillery  of  his  guards ;  and  by  prodigious 
efforts  redeemed  the  fortunes  of  the  day,  and  drove  the 
Russians  back  again  to  their  first  position. 

Night  came  and  the  battle  ended.  The  victory  re- 
mained with  Napoleon,  but  such  a  victory  and  at  such  a 
sacrifice !  The  triumph  itself  brought  no  benefit  with  it ; 
for  the  Russians  merely  withdrew  the  next  day  toward 
Moscow,  leaving  thousands  of  dead  and  wounded  as  ob- 
stacles in  the  pathway  of  the  invaders.  The  sacrifice? 
which  this  triumph  cost  Napoleon  were  indeed  dreadful. 
Another  such  victory,  and  like  Pyrrhus  of  old  he  might 
exclaim  that  he  was  utterly  ruined.  For  the  space  of  six 
miles  the  plain  was  thickly  covered  with  the  dying  and 


272  THE  FIELD  OF  BATTLE. 

the  dead.  Prince  Bagrathion  and  thirty  generals,  fifteen 
thousand  killed  and  thirty  thousand  wounded,  were  the 
losses  of  the  Russians;  while  Napoleon  mourned  the 
death  of  Generals  Monbrun  and  Canlaincourt,  and  the 
(loss  of  twelve  thousand  killed,  and  thirty-eight  thousand 
wounded.  Nearly  ninety  thousand  human  beings,  either 
killed  or  wounded  then  lay  weltering  in  their  blood  upon 
that  memorable  field ;  while  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach 
there  was  visible  nothing  but  a  tumultuous  heap  of  hu- 
man bodies,  horses,  broken  guns,  casques,  cuirasses,  hel- 
mets, and  other  faded  and  bloody  trophies  of  the  glory 
and  magnificence  of  war.  Wounded  horses  maddened 
with  the  pain,  struggled  among  the  piles  of  slain.  The 
wounded  soldiers  filled  the  air  with  their  shrieks  of  agony 
calling  in  vain  for  help  and  succor ;  for  the  resources  of 
the  French  surgeons  were  totally  insufficient  to  meet  a 
thousandth  part  of  the  demands  made  upon  them.  Na- 
poleon from  the  eminence  on  which  he  had  watched  the 
progress  of  the  battle,  gloomily  surveyed  the  appalling 
spectacle  after  the  conflict  was  ended.  His  triumph  instead 
of  filling  his  mind  with  exultation,  savored  more  of  the 
sadness  of  defeat.  His  losses  had  been  terrible.  His 
only  advantage  was  that  he  remained  possessor  of  the 
battle  field,  and  this  was  no  equivalent  for  the  immense 
losses  which  he  had  endured.  In  the  resolution  and  for- 
titude displayed  by  the  Russians,  he  saw  an  ominous,  pre- 
sage of  future  resistance  and  disaster  which  he  had  not 
anticipated.  He  rightly  judged  that  the  worst  was  yet 
to  come. 

The  condition  of  the  French  army  after  the  battle  of 
Borodino,  was  in  the  highest  degree  unfortunate  and  dis- 


RESOLUTION  TO  BURN  MOSCOW.  273 

eouraging.  For  miles  on  both  sides  along  the  road  to 
Moscow,  the  retreating  Russians  had  devastated  the 
country,  had  burned  the  houses,  destroyed  the  provisions, 
and  rendered  it  almost  impossible  for  the  invaders  to  pro- 
cure means  of  subsistence.  Thousands  of  horses  perished 
from  hunger.  Nor  was  the  want  of  food  the  only  disas- 
ter which  befel  them.  The  French  army  had  nearly  ex- 
hausted their  amunition,  and  had  barely  enough  remain- 
ing to  suffice  for  one  more  battle.  At  Borodino  they  had 
expended  ninety-one  thousand  cannon  shot ;  and  not  an 
equal  quantity  remained  in  the  possession  of  the  invaders. 
The  soldiers  were  compelled  to  the  necessity  of  subsisting 
almost  entirely  on  the  flesh  of  horses.  So  reduced  indeed 
had  they  become  after  the  battle  of  Borodino,  and  during 
the  subsequent  march  toward  Moscow,  that  had  the  Rus- 
sians been  acquainted  with  the  real  condition  of  their  foe, 
they  would  not  have  sacrificed  that  ancient  capital,  but 
would  have  hazarded  another  great  battle,  in  which  it  is 
very  probable  they  would  have  gained  a  decisive  victory. 

But  ignorant  as  they  were  of  these  facts,  the  Russian 
generals  in  a  council  of  war,  adopted  the  wisest,  and  at 
the  same  time,  the  most  extraordinary  resolution  not  to 
venture  another  great  conflict,  nor  yet  to  attempt  the  de- 
fense of  Moscow ;  but  to  abandon  the  capital  to  the 
French,  set  fire  to  its  myriad  houses,  and  thus,  between 
the  lurid  flames  of  the  immense  conflagration,  and  the  in- 
tensity of  the  approaching  winter's  cold,  to  vanquish  a  foe 
who  seemed  invincible  by  any  ordinary  resistance  or 
resources. 

Count  Rostopchin,  who  was  then  governor  of  Moscow, 

acquiesced  in  the  stern  purpose,  and  was  the  first  to  pro- 
L*  18 


274  FIRST  VIEW  OF  MOSCOW. 

claim  and  commend  it  to  the  astonished  inhabitants. 
With  a  degree  of  self-sacrificing  patriotism  which  has 
no  parallel  in  the» history  of  nations,  the  inhabitants  of  Mos- 
cow immediately  obeyed  the  mandate ;  and  three  hun- 
dred thousand  people  at  once  began  to  travel  forth  by 
the  eastern  gates  leaving  behind  them  their  splendid  pal- 
aces, their  valuable  merchandize,  and  the  accumulated 
wealth  and  rare  treasures  of  ages,  to  become  the  prey  of 
the  devouring  element.  In  three  days  the  city  was  en- 
tirely deserted  except  by  a  few  hundreds  of  the  lowest 
and  most  abandoned  of  the  inhabitants. 

It  was  at  eleven  o'clock  on  the  14th  of  September,  1812, 
when  the  advanced  guard  of  the  French  army,  under  Mu- 
rat,  reached  the  heights  on  the  Smolensko  road,  from 
which  the  first  view  of  Moscow  could  be  obtained. 
There,  reposing  with  stately  magnificence  in  the  plain  be- 
low them,  appeared  the  celebrated  city,  whose  gilded 
spires  and  temples  of  mingled  Asiatic  and  European 
architecture,  proudly  pierced  the  heavens,  and  seemed  to 
herald  the  entrance  of  the  invaders  within  the  precincts  of 
another  continent,  and  proclaim  their  sudden  advent  into 
the  gorgeous  portals  of  the  east.  As  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach  the  plain  was  covered  with  a  heterogeneous  varie- 
ty of  palaces,  churches,  gardens,  rivers,  public  and  private 
edifices,  and  the  innumerable  dwellings  of  the  various 
classes,  all  basking  in  silent  and  stately  loveliness,  in  the 
mellowed  rays  of  an  autumnal  sun. 

As  the  different  divisions  of  the  French  army  reached 
the  eminence  from  which  this  view  first  greeted  their 
gaze,  their  enthusiasm  burst  forth  in  shouts  of  frenzied 
triumph;  and  the  words  "Moscow!  Moscow!"  rever- 


NAPOLEON'S  ENTRANCE  INTO  MOSCOW.  275 

berated  over  the  waste,  as  the  sound  was  taken  up  and 
repeated  by  the  enthusiastic  French,  from  rank  to  rank. 
The  excitement  even  reached  Napoleon  himself.  He 
hastened  forward  to  obtain  a  view  of  that  gorgeous  prize 
for  which  he  had  already  risked  and  endured  so  much. 
He  gazed  for  some  moments  in  silence  at  the  city,  and 
then  exclaimed :  "  Behold !  at  last  there  is  Moscow,"  and 
after  a  pause  he  added  with  a  sigh — "  It  was  high  time !  " 
Napoleon  delayed  a  day  in  the  expectation  that  a  depu- 
tation of  the  magistrates  would  wait  upon  him,  and  deliver 
the  keys  of  the  city  into  his  hands.  He  waited  in  vain. 
Disgusted  at  their  apparent  ignorance  or  indifference,  he 
gave  the  order  to  advance,  and  his  legions  approached  and 
entered  the  gates  of  Moscow.  As  he  rode  along  the 
streets  the  sight  of  the  antique  towers,  and  the  Tartaric 
style  of  architecture  which  characterized  the  palaces  and 
temples,  charmed  and  delighted  him ;  and  his  admira- 
tion was  raised  to  the  highest  pitch  when  he  approached 
the  Kremlin.  This  was  a  vast  assemblage  of  palaces,  a 
city  within  itself,  partaking  also  somewhat  of  the  charac- 
ter of  a  fortress ;  for  it  was  defended  by  walls  and  tow- 
ers, containing  loop-holes  and  embrasures  for  the  use  of 
cannon.  This  stupendous  and  irregular  pile  of  palaces 
and  churches  had  for  ages  been  the  home  and  the  burying 
place  of  Muscovite  kings ;  and  Napoleon's  imagination 
was  powerfully  impressed  with  the  thought  that  he  had 
at  length  added  this  vast  trophy  of  barbaric  pomp  and 
oriental  splendor,  to  the  long  list  of  his  other  conquests. 
He  had  dreamed  in  his  youth  of  an  expedition  to  the 
farther  east,  by  which  he  would  dethrone  some  Persian 
or  Arabian  monarch  and  assume  his  scepter.  That  dream 


276  APPEARANCE  OF  MOSCOW. 

had  never  been  realized.  His  expedition  to  Egypt  had 
been  but  a  partial  and  feeble  substitute  for  it.  But  now, 
as  the  peerless  Moscow  lay  unresisting  at  his  feet,  he 
seemed  once  more  to  approach  nearer  to  the  literal  ful- 
fillment of  his  youthful  hope. 

Napoleon  had  reached  the  Kremlin  before  he  became 
aware  of  the  appalling  fact  that  he  had  entered  a  deserted 
city.  No  living  creature  appeared  except  his  own 
soldiers,  either  to  welcome  or  to  oppose  his  entrance. 
At  length  he  became  fully  aware  of  the  real  fact  in  the 
case,  and  he  gave  utterance  to  his  astonishment  and  in- 
dignation in  unmeasured  terms  of  execration.  No  depu- 
tation of  magistrates  or  nobles  waited  on  him,  humbly 
tendering  him  the  keys  of  the  city.  No  joyous  popula- 
tion greeted  him  as  their  deliverer  from  antiquated  tyr- 
anny. No  smiling  princesses  hailed  him  as  the  modern 
Alexander,  carrying  his  conquests  toward  the  confines  of 
the  east ;  or  lavished  such  compliments  on  him  as  beauty 
alone  can  bestow  on  the  heroic  and  the  illustrious.  He 
was  surrounded  by  an  unbroken  silence,  the  suspicious 
silence  and  solitude  of  a  city  of  the  dead.  At  length 
Napoleon  entered  the  Kremlin,  and  established  his  head 
quarters  in  its  gilded  halls. 

During  one  night,  the  night  of  the  14th  of  September, 
Napoleon  slept  hi  peace  in  his  newly  found  home.  Hit? 
ofiicers  and  soldiers  freely  pillaged  the  unoccupied  palaces 
which  had  been  deserted  by  their  owners.  Tumultuous 
riot  and  revelry,  such  as  only  attend  in  the  pathway  of 
conquest,  prevailed  throughout  the  vast  city,  thus  sud- 
denly deprived  of  its  legitimate  owners.  In  entering 
many  of  the  palaces,  the  French  soldiers  found  the  richly 


NAPOLEON'S  FIRST  NIGHT  IN  MOSCOW.  077 

furnished  apartments  with  all  their  valuable  contents  of 
art,  and  furniture,  and  plate,  precisely  as  their  proprietors 
usually  disposed  of  them.  No  attempt  had  been  made 
at  concealment  or  protection.  Napoleon  slept  that  night 
at  least  in  peace.  The  extraordinary  exertions  which  he  had 
recently  undergone,  at  length  overpowered  his  physical 
frame,  and  nature  gave  way  beneath  them.  He  dreamed, 
as  he  reposed  under  the  gorgeous  hangings  of  the  royal 
couch  of  Alexander,  the  absent  czar ;  and  his  thoughts 
wandered  far  away  over  a  thousand  hills  and  vales,  to 
the  spot  which  contained  his  beloved  wife,  and  idolized 
child,  the  king  of  Rome.  His  faithful  attendants  during 
the  night  saw  a  smile  playing  upon  his  lips,  and  heard  the 
name  of  his  fair  son  uttered  in  tones  of  deepest  tenderness. 
It  was  a  pleasing  dream,  a  sweet  illusion ;  from  the  gentle 
spell  of  which  the  stern  conqueror  was  soon  to  wake  to 
behold  scenes  of  horror  and  dismay,  unparalleled  even  in 
his  memorable  career  of  peril,  vicissitude,  and  suffering. 

On  the  15th  of  September  a  fire  first  appeared  in  the 
Bazaar,  which  rapidly  extended  until  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  the  surrounding  city  was  in  flames.  A  large  part 
of  the  French  army  was  at  that  moment  so  intoxicated 
by  the  wines  and  liquors  which  they  found  in  the  cellars 
of  the  deserted  palaces,  that  they  could  afford  no  effectual 
resistance  to  the  progress  of  the  flames.  The  conflagra- 
tion continued  to  rage  with  terrific  fury,  and  unseen  hands 
carried  the  torch  of  destruction  in  a  hundred  secret  places, 
thus  adding  to  its  extent,  and  to  the  difficulty  of  subject- 
ing it  to  control.  During  the  night  of  the  15th,  and  dur- 
ing the  whole  of  the  16th,  17th,  and  18th  of  September, 
the  fury  of  the  flames  increased,  until  at  length  the  whole 


278  MOSCOW  IN  FLAMES. 

city  seemed  enveloped  in  one  vast  conflagration,  which 
filled  the  entire  horizon,  and  gradually  approached  nearer 
and  nearer  to  the  Kremlin. 

At  night  the  spectacle  was  terrific  and  sublime,  far  be- 
yond the  power  of  language  to  depict.  A  brighter  light 
chan  that  of  the  noonday  sun  banished  darkness  from  the 
earth  for  many  miles  around.  Immense  palaces,  temples, 
tapering  and  lofty  spires,  enveloped  in  flames,  fell  with  a 
tremendous  crash  which  shook  the  ground.  Loud  explo- 
sions of  combustible  materials  continually  occurred, 
which  seemed  like  the  report  of  an  unseen  battle.  Float- 
ing fragments  of  burning  material  were  wafted  by  the 
fitful  winds  through  the  midnight  heavens,  carrying  de- 
struction where  the  hands  of  the  secret  incendiary  could 
not  reach.  At  length  on  the  19th,  the  Kremlin  itself 
took  fire,  and  the  mighty  but  humbled  conqueror  of  a 
hundred  battles,  was  compelled  to  evacuate  a  conquest  in 
wlrich  he  took  so  great  a  pride,  and  for  the  attainment  of 
which  he  had  made  such  immense  sacrifices.  So  general 
had  the  conflagration  by  this  time  become,  that  it  was 
with  great  difficulty,  and  amid  imminent  peril,  that  Na- 
poleon and  his  suite  could  pass  through  the  burning 
streets  on  their  way  to  the  gates.  He  arrived  however, 
at  length,  at  Petrowsky,  a  palace  situated  several  miles 
from  Moscow,  and  from  this  retreat  the  baffled  invader 
had  leisure  to  contemplate  the  unparalleled  circumstances 
of  disappointment,  disaster,  and  danger,  which  at  that 
moment  surrounded  him.  As  he  gazed  from  the  hot  win- 
dows of  this  palace  at  the  tumultuous  ocean  of  fire  and 
flame  which  extended  for  miles  along  the  horizon  before 
him,  Napoleon  is  said  to  have  exclaimed :  "  This  sad 


NAPOLEON  IN  THE  KREMLIN.  279 

event  is  the  presage  of  a  long  train  of  disasters !  "  Nor 
did  his  usual  sagacity  desert  him  in  making  this  predic- 
tion, as  the  sequel  abundantly  proved. 

By  the  20th  of  September  the  fire  had  exhausted  itself. 
Moscow  was  in  ruins.  But  by  some  strange  good  fortune 
the  Kremlin  had  in  a  great  measure  escaped  destruction ; 
and  Napoleon  after  an  absence  of  several  days,  returned 
to  it  again.  The  place  seemed  to  have  exercised  a  strange 
fascination  over  his  mind.  There  was  to  him  an  inde- 
scribable rapture  in  dating  decrees  from  the  Kremlin, 
which  were  to  be  obeyed  alike  at  Paris,  at  Naples,  at 
Madrid,  and  at  Vienna.  This  fascination  he  seemed  al- 
most unable  to  resist.  He  therefore  very  unwisely  spent 
four  weeks  in  this  romantic  abode ;  during  which  time 
the  season  advanced,  and  the  horrors  of  winter  rapidly 
approached.  It  seems  that  the  policy  which  the  Russian 
monarch  had  determined  to  adopt,  consisted  of  two 
points.  The  first  was  to  amuse  and  delay  Napoleon  by 
appearances  of  negotiation,  though  never  actually  to  enter 
into  any  serious  arrangements  with  him.  By  this  means 
the  retreat  of  the  French  would  be  delayed  until  winter 
set  in. 

The  other  point  was  to  satiate  the  deadly  vengeance 
which  the  Russian  army  had  sworn  to  execute  on  the 
ruthless  invaders  of  their  country,  by  collecting  immense 
armies  for  the  purpose  of  intercepting  the  French  on  their 
retreat,  and  destroying  them  by  the  combined  force  of 
the  winter's  fury,  and  the  ceaseless  and  relentless  attacks 
of  the  troops  of  the  czar.  By  the  treaties  which  Alexan- 
der had  recently  concluded  with  the  Turks  and  the  king 
of  Sweden,  two  immense  armies,  each  fifty  thousand 


280  NAPOLEON'S  EFFORTS  TO  NEGOTIATE. 

strong,  were  released  from  their  services  on  the  northern 
and  southern  frontiers  of  the  empire ;  and  were  at  liberty 
to  march  at  once  upon  the  line  of  the  retreat  of  the 
French  army.  With  these,  Witgenstein  was  hastening 
from  the  north  toward  Polotsk ;  and  Tchichagoff  was 
rapidly  approaching  Borissow  from  the  south.  Other 
armies,  under  Kutusoff  and  Barclay  de  Tolly — the  heroic 
veterans  of  Smolensko  and  Borodino — were  passing  by  a 
rapid  circuitous  route  in  front  of  the  French  line  of  re- 
treat, preparing  to  intercept  them. 

Meanwhile,  at  the  Kremlin,  Napoleon  had  made  sev- 
eral overtures  to  the  czar,  for  the  purpose  of  inducing 
him  to  treat.  They  were  all  in  vain.  At  length,  driven 
to  desperation,  he  dispatched  a  private  letter  to  Alexan- 
der, couched  in  terms  of  personal  friendship  and  regard ; 
in  which  he  touchingly  referred  to  their  former  intimacy, 
and  urged  him  for  the  sake  of  their  suffering  armies  and 
subjects  to  agree  to  negotiate.  To  this  letter,  also,  he  re- 
ceived no  answer  whatever. 

At  length, on  the  13th  of  October,  the  first  snow  Fell; 
and  the  sleeping  and  imprisoned  giant  was  suddenly 
aroused  from  his  delusive  dreams.  At  the  same  moment 
that  he  received  this  monition  from  the  great  voice  of  Na- 
ture, the  news  reached  him  of  the  fall  of  Madrid ;  of  the 
entry  of  the  Englisn  army  into  that  capital ;  and  of  the 
deposition  and  flight  of  his  brother  Joseph.  Cursing  the 
evil  destiny  which  seemed  to  attend  him,  Napoleon  at 
length  gave  orders  to  prepare  for  the  retreat,  and  on  the 
15th  of  the  month  the  veterans  of  Napoleon,  who  a  short 
month  before  had  first  beheld  the  capital  of  the  czars 
such  exulting  and  triumphant  joy,  now  turned  their 


THE  RETREAT  BEGINS.  281 

oacks  in  sullen  gloom  from  the  spot  where  Moscow  once 
had  stood  in  stately  splendor ;  and  commenced  that  mem- 
orable retreat,  surrounded  by  such  unparalleled  horrors, 
which  so  few  of  them  were  ever  destined  to  terminate 
within  the  confines  of  their  native  land. 

The  first  moment  of  Napoleon's  march  was  the  signal 
for  the  commencement  of  active  hostilities  on  the  part  of 
the  alert  generals  and  armies  of  the  czar.  The  retreating 
troops  were  encumbered  with  the  richest  spoils  of  Mos- 
cow. They  carried  away  with  them  an  immense  quantity 
of  gold  and  silver  plate,  sumptuous  and  rich  apparel,  silks, 
embroideries,  valuable  pictures,  and  other  rare  works  of 
art  of  inestimable  value.  Common  soldiers  might  be  seen 
overloaded  with  articles  of  Asiatic  luxury  and  barbaric 
splendor.  Beasts  of  burden  groaned  beneath  the  weight 
of  plundered  treasures  from  a  hundred  magnificent  pala- 
ces. Among  the  rest,  by  Napoleon's  express  orders,  the 
great  cross  of  St.  Ivan  was  borne  along  as  his  own  par- 
ticular trophy  of  conquest,  together  with  the  standards 
of  eastern  climes — of  Turkey,  of  Persia,  and  China,  which 
had  been  won  by  Russian  prowess  in  many  a  far-distant 
and  bloody  field. 

When  the  retreat  began,  the  fair  weather  which  soon 
returned,  the  rich  spoils  which  the  soldiers  bore,  and  the 
gay  revelry  of  the  forty  thousand  camp-followers  who  at- 
tended them,  among  whom  were  many  young  Russian 
women,  who  had  been  seduced  by  the  wiles  of  the  pleas- 
ing invaders  to  embrace  the  opportunity  to  return  with 
them  to  Paris — gave  the  march  the  joyful  air  of  a  triumph- 
ant procession.  But  soon  the  whole  aspect  of  affaira 
was  changed,  and  sadly  changed,  for  the  worse. 


282  PLANS  OF  THE  RUSSIANS. 

Meanwhile,  Kutusoff  was  hastening  with  one  hundred 
thousand  men,  and  seven  hundred  pieces  of  cannon,  to- 
ward the  town  of  Wiazma,  at  which  point  the  Russian 
commander  determined  to  inflict  the  first  great  blow 
upon  the  army  of  the  invader.  A  long  journey  of  seven 
hundred  miles  lay  before  his  retreating  soldiers  in  the 
midst  of  a  hostile  and  barren  country ;  and  it  was  time  to 
commence  the  terrific  task  of  crushing  and  obliterating 
the  host  of  wearied  and  overburdened  soldiers  from  whose 
standards  victory  had  fled. 

On  the  second  of  November,  Platoff,  with  ten  thousand 
Cossacks,  made  a  furious  onslaught  on  the  rear  of  the 
army.  The  whole  body  of  Russian  cavalry  under  Was- 
siltchikoff  attacked  the  main  line  of  the  French  retreat, 
and  established  themselves  on  both  sides  of  the  Smolensko 
'•oad,  along  which  the  line  of  retreat  lay.  The  rear  guard 
of  Davoust  fled  before  the  desultory  but  furious  attack  of 
the  Cossacks.  The  vanguard  of  the  Russians  under  Ku- 
tusoff commenced  a  cannonade  on  the  corps  of  Ney  ;  and 
the  division  of  General  Paskiewitz  attacked  the  center  of 
the  French  posted  in  the  town  of  Wiazma,  and  drove 
them  through  the  streets  at  the  point  ot  the  bayonet. 

During  this  engagement  the  French  lost  six  thousand 
men.  Before  this  battle  the  corps  of  Davoust  alone  had 
lost  ten  thousand  men  by  fatigue  and  desertion ;  and  the 
whole  French  army  had  been  reduced  in  proportion.  Na- 
poleon had  again  been  vanquished,  and  as  a  natural  con- 
sequence, despondency  and  a  growing  disregard  for  dis- 
cipline and  order  pervaded  the  feelings  and  marked  the 
conduct  of  the  retreating  troops. 

It  was  on  the  6th  of  November  that  the  snow  began  to 


THE  WINTER  COMMENCES.  283 

fall,  and  the  rigors  of  a  Russian  winter  to  commence ;  and 
from  this  date  commenced  the  real  horrors   and  unpar- 
alleled disasters  of  the  retreat.     With  the  falling  snow 
the  wind  began  to  be  high  and  furious,  and  soon  immense 
drifts  obstructed  the  roads,  and  rendered  it  difficult  for 
the  wearied  and  burdened  troops  to  advance.     It  was  not 
until  winter  came,  that  the  Russians  displayed  the  real 
atrocities  of  the  course  of  retribution  which  they  had  de- 
termined to  inflict  upon  their  invaders.     Then  it  was  that 
the  fierce  vengeance  of  the  flying  clouds  of  Cossacks  be- 
gan to  exhibit  itself.     Hanging  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
wearied  and  straggling  lines  of  French  soldiers,  by  sud- 
den attacks  they  slew  thousands  singly  and  in  small  com- 
panies, as  they  struggled  through  the   snow.     At   the 
same  time  hundreds  fell  upon  the  way  exhausted  by  the 
labors  of  the  march.     The  roads  soon  became  impassable 
for  the  artillery,  and  hundreds  of  guns  were  left  behind  at 
the  base  of  each  rising  hill.    The  soldiers  soon  became 
unable  to  transport  their  ammunition ;  and  frequent  ex- 
plosions in  the  rear  of  their  path,  and  on  the  outskirts,  in- 
dicated how  frequently  the  ammunition  wagons  were  sac- 
rificed rather  than  left  to  the  possession  of  the  pursuers. 
And  soon  the  road  became  strewed  with  the  rich  and 
stolen  spoils  of  Moscow,  to  which,  till  then,  their  captors 
had  clung  with  the  same  tenacity  as  they  clung  to  life ; 
even  these,  the  immense  toils  and  perils  of  the  way  com- 
pelled them  to  sacrifice. 

In  one  week's  time  after  the  commencement  of  the 
wintry  weather,  thirty  thousand  men  had  perished.  The 
path  of  the  retreating  army  was  now  marked  by  a  long 
line  of  deserted  cannon,  of  exploded  wagons,  and  of  free*- 


•284  HORRORS  OF  THE  RETREAT. 

ing  and  dying  men  and  horses.  So  terrible  had  the  des- 
titution already  become,  that  many  of  the  French  soldiers 
rioted  in  horse  flesh ;  and  even  others,  it  is  said,  did  not 
abstain  from  assuaging  their  horrid  pangs  by  eating  hu- 
man bodies.  During  the  hours  of  darkness  the  country 
became  a  howling  wilderness.  Far  and  wide  over  the 
snowy  waste,  no  sign  of  human  habitation,  no  sound  of 
human  sympathy  was  seen  or  heard.  The  driving  snow- 
drifts threatened  to  bury  the  wearied  soldiers  beneath 
their  cold  embrace ;  and  when  morning  dawned,  the  frag- 
ments of  the  bivouack-fires  were  surrounded  by  circles  of 
frozen  bodies,  which  during  the  night  had  perished  in  si- 
lence as  they  lay,  from  the  intensity  of  the  cold. 

Napoleon  who  still  remained  with  his  fated  army,  con- 
centrated all  his  endeavors  toward  reaching  Smolensko. 
At  this  place  he  had  previously  ordered  immense  stores 
of  provisions  to  be  collected,  when  on  his  forward  march 
toward  Moscow ;  and  he  hoped  that  when  his  retreating 
troops  reached  this  spot,  he  would  be  able  to  retrieve  a 
large  portion  of  the  disasters  of  his  defeat.  He  therefore 
urged  on  his  troops  along  the  Smolensko  road,  sacrificing 
everything  which  impeded  their  advance.  By  this  time 
nearly  the  whole  of  his  baggage  and  artillery  had  been 
left  behind ;  and  he  now  even  ordered  the  great  cross  of 
St.  Ivan,  which  had  adorned  the  loftiest  pinnacle  of  the 
Kremlin,  and  the  Turkish  and  Persian  standards,  to  be 
sunken  in  the  waters  of  an  adjoining  lake.  During  all 
this  time  the  attacks  on  his  troops  by  the  relentless  Cos- 
sacks continued  uninterrupted.  Kutusoff  with  an  im- 
mense army  still  hovered  around  his  rear,  waiting  for  a 


NAPOLEON  AT  SMOLENSKO.  285 

propitious  opportunity  and  favorable  ground  to  bring  the 
exhausted  French  to  another  general  engagement. 

At  length,  on  the  9th  of  November,  Napoleon  arrived 
at  Smolensko.  The  lofty  towers  and  gilded  domes  of  its 
cathedral,  again  greeted  the  eyes  of  his  wearied  and  fam- 
ished troops,  who,  by  this  time,  had  been  diminished  by 
one  half,  from  the  mighty  armament  which,  on  the  ad- 
vance toward  Moscow,  had  beheld  them.  Here  from  the 
9th  to  the  13th  they  reposed;  and  Napoleon  put  forth 
prodigious  exertions  to  recruit  his  shattered  forces.  His 
cavalry,  which  numbered  forty  thousand  men  when  they 
first  crossed  the  Niemen,  had  now  been  reduced  to  the 
pitiful  sum  of  eight  hundred ;  and  of  ah1  his  vast  arma- 
ment with  which  he  entered  Russia  of  five  hundred  thou- 
sand men,  but  seventy  thousand  now  remained,  of  whom 
forty  thousand  alone  were  effective  troops. 

On  the  14th  of  November  the  French  army  resumed 
its  mournful  retreat.  The  emperor,  with  the  old  and  new 
guard,  came  first.  Next  came  the  division  of  the  viceroy 
Eugene.  Then  followed  Davoust  with  the  main  body  of 
the  army ;  while  Ney  still  continued  to  conduct  the  rear. 
On  the  17th  of  November  the  Russian  general  Kutusoff 
was  enabled  to  bring  the  French  emperor  to  another  gen- 
eral engagement  at  Krasnoi.  His  host  of  wearied  sol- 
diers still  continued  to  waste  away  by  hundreds  daily ;  and 
a  stronger  hope  of  a  complete  triumph  now  encouraged 
the  mind  of  Kutusoff,  in  making  another  combined  attack 
upon  his  enemy.  Prince  Galitzin,  with  the  Russian  center, 
furiously  attacked  the  Young  Guard,  and  succeeded  in 
achieving  a  result  which  had  never  before  been  accom- 
plished. Sorely  pressed  on  all  sides,  the  guard  had 


286  DAVOUST  AX D  THE  COSSACKS. 

formed  into  squares,  and  one  of  these  squares  Galitzin 
broke,  and  absolutely  destroyed.  Davoust's  division  was 
enveloped  by  an  immense  cloud  of  Cossacks,  who  attacked 
his  division  with  their  accustomed  fury,  and  threw  it  into 
confusion.  The  Russians  carried  by  assault  the  village 
of  Krasnoi  where  Napoleon  was  posted,  and  compelled 
him  to  retire.  At  the  close  of  the  conflict,  the  ha- 
rassed, exhausted,  and  perishing  army  of  the  invader  had 
lost  six  thousand  prisoners,  forty-five  pieces  of  cannon, 
two  imperial  standards,  an  immense  quantity  of  baggage, 
and  the  private  archives  of  Napoleon. 

There  was  a  spectacle  exhibited  during  this  retreat, 
comically  unique,  and  yet  terrible  in  its  character,  which 
no  other  warlike  movements  have  ever  displayed.  For 
many  leagues  the  whole  division  of  Davoust,  now  reduced 
to  five  thousand  men  out  of  seventy  thousand,  pursued  their 
slow  and  tedious  march  completely  enveloped  on  all  sides 
by  clouds  of  flying  Cossacks,  who  kept  even  pace  with 
their  march,  and  constantly  harassed  them  with  their  ex- 
hausting and  desultory  attacks. 

At  length,  on  the  23d  of  November,  the  French  army 
reached  the  banks  of  the  Beresina.  The  bridge  which 
crossed  this  river  had  been  destroyed  by  Tchichagoif, 
who  had  advanced  from  the  south ;  and  this  calamity 
compelled  Napoleon  to  construct  another  for  the  passage 
of  his  troops.  He  immediately  commanded  his  engineers 
to  commence  the  task.  A  corps  of  sappers  threw  them- 
selves into  the  river  up  to  their  necks  in  the  swelling 
flood,  and  heroically  labored  to  accomplish  the  herculean 
task.  The  cavalry  were  commanded  to  swim  over  the 
stream  while  the  process  of  construction  was  advancing. 


PASSAGE  OF  THE  BEKESINA.  287 

At  length  the  bridge  was  sufficiently  finished  for  the  in- 
fantry to  pass  over.  The  passage  began  and  continued 
during  the  25th,  and  26th,  and  amid  attacks  of  the  Rus- 
sians on  both  sides  of  the  river,  the  French  army  suc- 
ceeded with  immense  difficulty  in  reaching  the  opposite 
bank,  with  the  exception  of  the  division  of  General  Par- 
tonneaux,  composed  of  seven  thousand  men,  who  were 
surrounded  by  the  everlasting  Cossacks  under  Platoff, 
and  at  length  compelled  to  surrender  themselves  prison- 
ers of  war. 

It  was  during  the  passage  of  the  rear  division  of  Mar- 
shal Victor  over  the  bridge,  that  one  of  the  most  terri- 
ble scenes  ever  witnessed,  was  presented  to  view.  The 
Russian  artillery  under  Diebitch  was  brought  to  bear 
directly  upon  the  bridge,  ladened  with  the  retreating 
multitude.  A  wide  semi-circle  of  cannon  swept  the  whole 
line  of  the  bridge,  with  a  deluge  of  fiery  shot  and  shell, 
carrying  death  and  dismay  into  the  tumultuous  crowd, 
from  whose  ranks  all  discipline  had  long  been  banished. 
Terror  seemed  to  fill  every  mind,  and  a  maddened  rush 
forward  to  escape  impending  ruin  was  seen  on  all  sides. 
Hundreds  were  trampled  to  death  beneath  the  feet  of 
their  comrades.  The  cannon  of  the  Russians  ploughed 
through  and  through  the  thick  masses  of  living  flesh. 
Heaps  of  the  dead  and  dying  were  piled  on  the  bridge, 
and  began  to  impede  the  passage.  At  this  crisis,  the 
cannon  balls  broke  the  bridge  in  the  center,  and  set  the 
two  extremities  on  fire.  A  scene  of  horror  then  ensued 
which  beggars  all  language.  The  frantic  crowd  were  com- 
pelled to  plunge  into  the  half-frozen  flood  below,  and 
swim  for  their  lives.  Thousands  of  men,  women,  and 


288  NAPOLEON  DESERTS  HIS  ARMY 

horses  perished,  trampled  to  death  by  the  struggling 
multitude,  or  drowned  by  the  waters  of  the  stream. 
When  the  ice  dissolved  in  the  ensuing  spring,  twelve  thou- 
sand dead  bodies  were  found — the  victims  of  this  horrid 
and  memorable  passage. 

At  length,  on  the  5th  of  December,  Napoleon  arrived 
with  the  wrecks  of  his  army  at  Smorgoni.  Here  he  dic- 
tated his  celebrated  29th  bulletin,  in  which,  for  the  first 
time,  he  proclaimed  the  real  horrors  of  his  condition  and 
losses.  He  placed  the  supreme  command  in  the  hands  of 
Murat,  and  set  off  Avith  Caulaincourt  and  Loban,  at  ten 
o'clock  at  night  for,  Paris.  He  had  received  news  of  Mal- 
let's conspiracy  in  the  French  capital,  and  he  determined 
to  leave  his  unfortunate  army  to  their  impending  doom, 
and  make  good  his  own  escape  beyond  the  Russian  terri- 
tory. He  traveled  in  a  small  britschka,  placed  on  low 
runners,  made  out  of  rude  fir  wood.  He  journeyed 
night  and  day  with  his  two  companions,  closely  wrapped 
up  in  heavy  furs. 

Silently  and  gloomily  the  fallen  monarch  traversed,  as 
rapidly  as  his  wearied  horses  could  draw  him,  the  im- 
mense and  cheerless  plains  of  Poland.  How  singular 
must  have  been  his  reflections  during  this  sad  journey ! 
His  insatiable  ambition  had  at  length  been  foiled  in  its 
audacious  attempt  to  grasp  the  scepter  of  universal 
sovereignty.  He  had  been  the  cause  of  the  ruin  of  a 
million  of  his  fellow  creatures,  and  the  curses  loud  and 
deep  of  myriads  of  bereaved  widows  and  orphans,  over 
the  whole  continent,  rang  in  his  ears,  as  the  just  knell  of 
future  and  inevitable  retribution.  Did  he  care  for  or 
feel  the  ponderous  weight  of  all  these  curses  ?  It  is 


RESULTS  OF  THE  EXPEDITION.  289 

doubtful!  Ambition,  when  it  becomes  insatiable,  be- 
comes also  lost  to  every  dictate  of  reason,  humanity,  and 
justice ;  and  it  is  probable  that  in  the  dark  breast  of  this 
great,  bad  man,  the  only  prevalent  feeling  was  chagrin  at 
his  own  discomfiture,  and  apprehension  as  to  the  future 
evils  which  impended  over  him. 

Deserted  by  their  emperor,  the  French  army  still  con- 
tinued its  retreat ;  and  finally  arrived  at  the  banks  of  the 
Niemen,  the  confines  of  the  Russian  territory,  on  the  12th 
of  December.  Out  of  that  vast  and  imposing  armament 
of  five  hundred  thousand  men,  which  in  the  preceding 
June  had  crossed  that  river,  glittering  in  all  the  pride, 
pomp,  and  majesty  of  war,  twenty  thousand  enfeebled  and 
exhausted  specters  alone  tottered  over  it  on  their  return ! 
All  the  rest  had  perished,  or  had  been  captured  during 
the  progress  of  this  memorable  expedition — as  sacrifices 
offered  upon  the  altar  of  the  insatiable  ambition  of  one 
bold  and  unprincipled  but  gifted  adventurer. 

In  reflecting  on  this  picture  of  ruin  and  unparaUeled  woe, 
it  is  difficult  to  convey  any  adequate  idea  of  the  real  im- 
portance and  magnitude  of  the  events  involved  in  it. 
From  the  day  the  French  army  crossed  the  Niemen  till 
that  of  its  return  to  its  shores,  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  thousand  men  had  been  slain  in  battle ;  one  hundred 
and  thirty-two  thousand  had  perished  of  cold,  famine,  and 
fatigue ;  one  hundred  and  ninety  thousand  had  been  taken 
prisoners  and  subjected  afterward  to  all  the  horrors  of 
Siberian  captivity.  In  addition  to  these  it  should  be  re- 
membered, that  in  the  various  battles  fought  with  the 
Russians,  the  latter  had  also  lost  an  immense  number  of 

men.     It  is  computed  that  the  killed  and  wounded  in  the 
M  19 


290  NAPOLEON  REACHES  PARIS. 

Russian  armies  amounted  at  least  to  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  men  during  the  six  months  of  Napoleon's 
invasion.  What  a  stupendous  and  incalculable  amount 
of  suffering  had  this  one  single  daring  and  prodigious  ven- 
ture of  Napoleon,  inflicted  on  a  mourning,  weeping,  and 
agonizing  continent ! 

At  length,  on  the  20th  of  December,  1812,  Napoleon 
reached  Paris.  He  arrived  unheralded,  at  midnight. 
His  first  care  was  to  convict  and  punish  Mallet  and  his 
confederates,  who  had  dared,  in  his  absence,  to  menace 
the  security  of  his  throne.  Soon  the  pitiful  remains  of 
his  once  "  grand  army "  began  to  arrive  at  the  French 
capital ;  and  by  their  diminished  numbers  and  frightful 
appearance  of  suffering  and  misery,  opened  the  eyes  of 
the  astonished  Parisians  to  the  full  extent  of  the  horrors 
and  losses  of  the  expedition. 

The  mighty  genius  of  Napoleon  never  recovered  from 
the  disastrous  effects  of  this  memorable  campaign.  An 
outraged  continent  soon  assembled  its  armies  on  the  con- 
fines of  France,  determined  by  one  prodigious  effort  to 
destroy  forever  the  power  of  the  great  curse  of  modern 
times.  Closer  and  closer  the  lines  were  drawn  around 
the  hunted  lion,  by  his  determined  pursuers ;  and  his  pro- 
digious bounds  failed  to  extricate  him  from  their  gather- 
ing toils.  At  last,  at  Leipsic,  the  memorable  battle  was 
fought — fitly  called  "  the  battle  of  the  nations  " — at  which 
Europe  concentrated  her  energies  at  one  mighty  blow  to 
crush  the  common  foe,  and  the  relentless  oppressor  of  all. 

Yet,  amid  these  continued  disasters,  the  amazing  genius 
of  this  extraordinary  man  remained  undismayed.  Yielding 
for  the  time  being  to  the  necessity  laid  upon  him  by  the 


NAPOLEON  AT  ELBA.  291 

voice  of  destiny,  he  accepted  with  a  good  grace  the  prof- 
fered toy  of  Elba's  diminutive  diadem,  and  retired  thither 
to  rest  for  an  interval  from  his  labors ;  and  then  once 
more  to  come  forth  and  convulse  the  continent  anew  with 
his  restless  energy  and  ambition — to  enact  the  memorable 
drama  of  Waterloo,  and  the  Hundred  Days ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 

NAPOLEON   DUBING   THE    HUNDRED   DATS. 

THE  most  brilliant  assemblage  of  beauty,  celebrity, 
and  fashion,  which  ever  graced  a  capital  with  their  courtly 
presence,  was  the  European  congress  which  convened  in 
Vienna  in  1815.  It  was  then  thought  that  the  formidable 
hero  who  for  twenty  years  had  agitated  the  continent  with 
the  throes  of  his  ambition,  had  been  safely  and  permanently 
caged  at  Elba ;  and  there  had  congregated  in  the  palaces 
of  the  voluptuous  and  stately  capital  of  the  imperial  house 
of  Hapsburg,  a  galaxy  of  illustrious  statesmen,  of  skillful 
diplomatists,  of  heroic  warriors,  of  powerful  monarchy 
and  of  witty,  fascinating  and  accomplished  women  such 
the  world  had  never  before  beheld  in  one  single  view. 
The  distracted  affairs  of  Europe  were  then  indeed  to  be 
settled ;  but  neither  the  cares  of  business  nor  of  ambition 
in  the  least  degree  impeded  the  more  pleasing  and  attrac- 
tive pursuits  of  intrigue,  flirtation,  and  pleasure. 

The  emperor  of  Russia,  the  kings  of  Prussia,  Bavaria, 
Denmark,  and  Wurtemberg,  and  a  miscellaneous  collec- 
tion of  grand-dukes,  margraves,  dukes  and  electors  who 
governed  the  petty  principalities  of  Germany,  were  there 
in  person.  The  British  empire  was  represented  by  Lord 
Castlereagh,  and  the  Duke  of  Wellington ;  France  by  the 
illustrious  Talleyrand ;  Prussia  by  Hardenberg  and  Hum- 


THE  CONGRESS  OF  VIENNA.  293 

boldt ;  and  the  Austrian  sovereign  by  Metternich,  he  who 
alone  of  Europesm  diplomatists  had  once  over-reached 
and  outlied  Napoleon  himself.  The  kings  of  Spain, 
Portugal,  Sweden,  and  Naples,  of  Sicily,  Bavaria,  Saxony 
and  the  Netherlands,  together  with  the  Swiss  and  Genoese 
republics,  had  all  sent  their  ablest  diplomatists  to  repre- 
sent them.  And  while  the  greatest  legislators  and  soldiers 
of  Europe  were  assembled  there,  in  those  high  halls  of 
state,  the  potency  of  woman's  softer  and  sweeter  charms 
was  fitly  represented  and  exercised  by  some  of  the  most 
accomplished  and  fascinating  of  the  sex,  by  Madam  Grandt, 
by  the  countess  de  Fuchs,  and  by  many  other  very  cele- 
brated belles  and  beauties,  some  of  stainless  and  some  of 
easy  virtue.  Thus  the  grave  deliberations  of  the  con- 
gress were  agreeably  alleviated  and  diversified  by  the 
most  brilliant  assemblies,  by  the  most  sumptuous  banquets, 
by  the  most  delicious  fetes,  by  the  most  exquisite  flirta- 
tions, and  the  most  voluptuous  excesses  which  the  prolific 
imagination  of  man  can  conceive. 

At  the  very  moment  when  these  scenes  were  gaily  pro- 
gressing at  Vienna,  another,  and  a  somewhat  different 
one,  was  being  enacted  at  Elba.  The  generosity  of  the 
allied  sovereigns  of  Europe  had  placed  Napoleon  as  an 
indspendent  monarch  on  this  island,  which  was  situated 
near  the  Tuscan  coast,  and  within  view  of  the  soil  of 
Italy.  He  was  permitted  to  possess  an  ample  revenue, 
and  an  armed  force  which  soon  amounted  to  a  thousand 
men.  Three  small  vessels  of  war  were  also  at  his  disposal ; 
and  he  maintained  all  the  dignities,  prerogatives  and 
ceremonies  of  a  court,  with  the  same  degree  of  formality 
as  when  he  presided  at  the  Tuilleries,  or  St.  Cloud.  He 


294  NAPOLEON'S  BALL  AT  ELBA. 

was  constantly  surrounded  by  many  illustrious  visitors  of 
both  sexes,  and  the  society  of  his  diminutive  empire  was 
brilliant  and  distinguished  in  the  extreme. 

On  the  26th  of  February,  1815,  the  ex-emperor  gave  a 
ball  in  the  palace  of  Porto  Ferrajo,  his  capital,  to  which 
all  the  persons  of  consequence  on  the  island  were  invited. 
Rarely  had  Parisian  elegance  and  splendor  displayed  any- 
thing more   attractive  and  select  than  that  assemblage. 
All  the   foreign  ministers  were   present.     The  queenly 
Pauline   Bonaparte  presided,  and  threw  over  the  scene 
that  luster  which  her  own  peerless  grace  and  beauty  alone 
could  impart.     Napoleon  himself  seemed  to  be  in  unusu- 
ally good  spirits.     He  passed  around  the  room  and  con- 
versed gaily  with  his  numerous  guests.     To  have  looked 
upon  that  marble  brow  and  those  finely  chiselled  features, 
then  wreathed  with  smiles,   the  witchery  of  which  ex- 
ceeded that  of  all  others'  smiles,  no  one  would  have  imag- 
ined that  at  that  very  moment  Napoleon  was  about  to 
execute  the  boldest,  the  most   dangerous,  and  the  most 
desperate  enterprise  of  his  whole  life.     The  hours  wore 
quickly  on.     The  dancing  had  began.     Sweet  music  and 
fair  forms  floated  gracefully  through  that   brilliant  hall, 
and  while  the  attention  of  the  assembly  was  attracted  to 
the  amusements  which  were  going  forward,  the   great 
conqueror  drew  aside  into  a  remote  alcove,  one  of  the 
most  lovely  of  her  sex  for  a  moment's  private  converse. 
The  person  thus  highly  honored  by  imperial  favor  was  a 
Polish  lady  of  rare  beauty.     She  had  fascinated  Napoleon 
before  the  battle  of  Eylau,  and  had  retained  her  potent 
influence  over  him   ever  since.      Her  charms   of  mind 
equalled  her  charms  of  person ;  and  she  seemed  not  un- 


MADAM  WALEWSKI.  295 

worthy  to  be  the  vanquisher  of  the  vanquisher  of  Eu- 
rope. She  had  followed  him  to  his  retreat  at  Elba ;  and 
her  society  had  largely  contributed  to  alleviate  the  mo- 
notony of  his  residence  there.  This  lady  was  the  cele- 
brated Madam  Walewski,  the  mother  of  the  French  di- 
plomatist, who  presided  over  the  deliberations  of  the 
peace  congress  at  Paris  in  1856.  With  this  beautiful  and 
voluptuous  woman  Napoleon  spent  a  short  time  in  cheer- 
ful and  witty  dalliance  unobserved  by  the  gay  crowd. 
To  her  alone,  of  all  that  crowd,  he  communicated  the 
daring  venture  he  was  about  to  make.  He  also  made  an 
arrangement  with  her  to  follow  him  soon  to  Paris ;  and 
then  quietly  withdrew,  unnoticed,  from  the  ball-room. 

At  that  moment  a  thousand  men  were  drawn  up  on  the 
quay  of  Porto  Ferrajo,  waiting  for  the  appearance  of  the 
emperor.  They  were  under  the  command  of  Bertrand, 
Cambronne  and  Drouot.  Napoleon  immediately  joined 
them  and  gave  the  instant  order  to  embark.  He  him- 
self stepped  on  board  the  brig  Inconstant,  which  con- 
tained four  hundred  of  his  veteran  guards.  His  appear- 
ance was  calm  and  resolute.  He  said  boldly  to  those 
around  him :  "  The  die  is  now  cast."  The  night  was  se- 
rene, and  the  moon  shone  brightly  upon  that  adventurous 
flotilla  freighted  with  the  fortunes  of  one,  even  greater 
and  more  illustrious  than  Csesar.  He  directed  the  pilots 
to  steer  for  the  coast  of  Provence.  As  soon  as  the  soldiers 
learned  that  they  were  on  their  direct  way  to  France, 
they  displayed  the  utmost  enthusiasm ;  and  then  loud 
shouts  of  vive  Pempereur,  echoed  and  reechoed  over  the 
wide  surface  of  the  tranquil  deep.  During  the  voyage 
they  once  came  within  hail  of  a  French  brig.  The  soldiers 


296  NAPOLEON  EMBARKS  FOR  FRANCE. 

lay  flat  on  the  deck  that  they  might  not  be  discovered, 
and  the  captain  of  the  vessel  asked  whether  they  had 
come  from  Elba,  and  how  Napoleon  was.  Napoleon  him- 
self replied :  H  se  porte  a  merveille  !  In  the  afternoon  of 
the  first  of  March  the  flotilla  cast  anchor  in  the  Gulf  of 
St.  Juan,  and  immediately  Napoleon  and  his  adventurous 
companions  disembarked  on  the  soil  of  their  beloved 
France. 

The  purpose  of  Napoleon  in  making  this  sudden  de- 
scent upon  the  French  territory  is  well  known.  He  de- 
signed to  regain  his  lost  throne.  He  intended  to  make 
a  triumphant  progress  through  the  provinces ;  gathering 
the  augmenting  strength  and  power  of  an  avalanche  as  he 
advanced ;  and  thus  vested  with  a  new  omnipotence  to 
arrive  in  Paris,  to  drive  Louis  XVIII.  from  the  throne, 
and  to  resume  his  forfeited  empire.  All  these  brilliant 
calculations  came  very  near  being  totally  disappointed  at 
their  outset.  The  great  hero  of  Austerlitz  and  Wagram 
very  narrowly  escaped  the  ignominious  penalty  which  at- 
tends in  all  countries  the  commission  of  common  treason. 
Having  sent  twenty-five  of  his  old  guard  to  seduce  the 
garrison  of  Antibes  in  the  name  of  the  emperor,  the 
commander  of  the  fortress,  General  Corsin,  ordered  them 
to  be  arrested.  The  failure  of  this  first  attempt  on  the 
part  of  the  desperate  adventurer  was  an  evil  omen ;  and 
indeed  it  spread  very  considerable  dis'may  among  the 
soldiers  of  Napoleon.  Even  Napoleon  himself  was  aston- 
ished, and  for  a  few  moments  stunned,  by  this  unexpected 
reverse.  He  had  imagined  that  the  potent  magic  of  his 
great  name  would  dispel  every  obstacle ;  that  the  soldiers 
of  France  would  rally  in  multitudes  around  his  standards ; 


THE  MARCH  TO  GRENOBLE.  29^ 

and  that  he  would  have  but  little  difficulty  to  contend 
with  in  his  pathway  of  triumph.  Now,  however,  he  saw 
his  very  first  attempt  utterly  fail  and  his  future  progress 
might  only  involve  him  in  further  and  perhaps  fatal  perils. 
But  Napoleon's  mind  had  now  reached  a  state  of  des- 
peration ;  he  had  gone  too  far  to  recede  ;  and  he  deter- 
mined to  advance,  whatever  might  be  the  consequences. 
Accordingly,  at  four  o'clock  the  next  morning,  at  the 
head  of  his  small  and  insignificant  force,  he  commenced 
his  daring  march  toward  Paris.  He  entered  the  mountain 
defiles  of  Gap,  and  took  the  direct  route  to  Grenoble. 

During  the  first  two  days  Napoleon  marched  fifty-four 
miles.  At  Digne  he  printed  his  proclamations  which  he 
commenced  to  distribute  along  his  route.  At  Grenoble 
he  again  very  narrowly  escaped  destruction.  The  troops 
which  were  stationed  there  were  drawn  out  by  their  com- 
mander to  resist  and  capture  him.  Before  an  opportunity 
however  was  given  for  hostilities  to  commence,  Napoleon 
advanced  in  front  of  his  own  ranks,  and  addressing  the  op- 
posite party  exclaimed :  "  Comrades !  do  you  not  know 
me?  Do  you  not  recognize  me,  my  children  ?  I  am 
your  emperor.  Fire  on  me  if  you  wish,  here  is  my  bosom ! " 
At  the  same  moment  he  bared  his  breast.  The  well 
known  person  and  the  familiar  voice  of  their  former 
chieftain  proved  irresistible  to  the  excited  troops,  the 
heroes  of  many  an  ensanguined  field ;  and  whole  compan- 
ies of  them  rushed  toward  him  with  transport ;  shouts  of 
vive  VEmpereur  filled  the  air  ;  and  the  entire  force  arrayed 
themselves  immediately  among  his  friends  and  partisans. 
Napoleon  then  entered  Grenoble  in  triumph.  He  pro- 
claimed some  decrees  of  great  importance  from  that  city, 
M* 


298  MAGNITUDE  OF  THE  ENTERPRISE. 

in  which  he  announced  the  downfall  of  the  Bourbons,  and 
his  own  resumption  of  the  throne.  Their  burning  and 
rapid  eloquence  thrilled  every  breast  in  France  with  emo- 
tion; and  eventually  even  convulsed  many  nations  of 
Europe  with  the  throes  of  revolution  and  warfare. 

While  Napoleon  was  thus  advancing  toward  his  capi- 
tal, with  the  accumulating  power  and  magnitude  of  an 
Alpine  avalanche,  the  court  of  the  Bourbons,  and  the 
friends  of  the  ancient  monarchy,  after  a  few  useless  efforts 
at  resistance,  fled  in  dismay  in  every  direction.  At  first 
it  was  thought  that  some  effective  show  of  opposition 
might  be  made.  Nearly  all  the  celebrated  marshals  of 
Napoleon  had  accepted  high  posts  under  Louis  XVIII. 
and  their  great  abilities  were  immediately  put  into  re- 
quisition. Soult,  Massena,  Mortier,  Oudinot,  Augereau, 
Macdonald  and  Ney,  were  all  engaged  in  the  service  of 
the  Bourbons,  and  were  appointed  to  fill  important  com- 
mands. Ney  alone  among  them  however,  was  enthusiastic 
in  his  hopes  of  success  against  the  strange  and  magic 
power  of  this  ancient  commander;  and  as  he  left  the 
Tuiileries  on  the  7th  of  March  he  exultingly  said  to  the 
king :  "  Farewell  sire ;  I  will  bring  back  Bonaparte  to 
you  in  an  iron  cage !  "  It  was  at  this  moment  that  the 
news  of  Napoleon's  departure  from  Elba  reached  the  gay 
crowds  which  were  assembled  at  Vienna.  Had  a  thun- 
derbolt from  heaven  suddenly  fallen  in  the  midst  of  the 
ball-room  of  the  imperial  palace,  it  could  not  have  in- 
spired more  terror  among  the  numerous  and  brilliant  cir- 
cle then  assembled  there,  than  did  that  unexpected  an- 
aouncement.  The  sensation  which  it  produced  was  pro- 
digious. Sovereigns,  ministers,  soldiers  and  statesmen  of 


NAPOLEON  AT  LYONS.  299 

every  grade  and  character  were  overcome  with  mingled 
amazement  and  consternation.  The  congress  hurriedly 
concluded  its  deliberations ;  and  the  assembled  monarchs 
with  their  advisers  immediately  began  to  make  arrange- 
ments to  combat  and  to  conquer  this  last  and  desperate 
effort  of  the  mighty  Corsican,  to  grasp  once  more  the  dia- 
dem of  France,  and  the  supremacy  of  Europe. 

On  the  12th  of  March  Napoleon  reached  the  important 
city  of  Lyons,  and  entered  it  without  opposition.  It  was 
here  that  he  first  came  in  contact  with  his  veteran  com- 
rade in  arms,  Marshal  Ney,  the  bravest  of  the  brave ;  and 
it  was  here  that  after  considerable  deliberation  that  dis- 
tinguished hero  consummated  the  unfortunate  act  of  trea- 
son, which  has  forever  sullied  the  luster  of  many  bril- 
liant deeds,  and  covered  his  name  with  infamy.  Ney 
reached  Lyons  very  soon  after  Napoleon  entered  it.  He 
came  thither  for  the  express  purpose  of  arresting  the  lat- 
ter ;  he  left  that  city  the  sworn  confederate  of  him  whose 
desperate  purpose  it  was  once  more  to  disturb  the  peace 
of  a  distracted  continent,  and  hurl  a  legitimate  monarch 
from  a  throne,  around  which  clustered  the  happiness  and 
security  of  uncounted  millions. 

From  Lyons  to  Paris  the  march  of  Napoleon  resembled 
more  the  triumphant  progress  of  a  great  conqueror,  than 
the  perilous  return  of  a  banished  outlaw.  By  the  four- 
teenth of  March,  the  growing  enthusiasm  in  favor  of  the 
bold  adventurer  had  pervaded  the  whole  of  France.  The 
memory  of  his  many  mighty  deeds  still  exercised  its 
magic  spell  over  the  minds  of  the  most  excitable  of  na- 
tions. Though  the  Corsican  had  already  cost  France 
many  millions  of  valuable  lives,  it  was  still  true  that  he 


300  NAPOLEON  AT   FONTAINBLEAU. 

held  the  uppermost  place  in  the  nation's  favor  and  ad- 
miration. Soon  defection  spread  throughout  the  whole 
royal  army.  Wherever  detachments  were  placed,  and 
wherever  fortresses  were  garrisoned,  they  successively 
deserted  the  standards  of  the  Bourbons,  and  announced 
their  determination  to  enlist  in  the  service  of  Napoleon. 
By  the  nineteenth  of  March  the  condition  of  the  Bour- 
bons was  desperate.  All  appeals  to  the  honor  and  integ- 
rity of  the  army  of  Paris  were  fruitless.  A  review  of 
the  Royal  and  National  Guards  of  the  capital  was  ordered 
on  the  nineteenth  ;  and  nobody  appeared.  On  that  day 
at  dinner  the  king  was  deserted  in  the  gilded  halls  of  the 
Tuilleries ;  and  at  the  midnight  which  succeeded,  the 
weeping  monarch,  attended  by  his  family  alone,  silently 
departed  from  the  palace  of  his  forefathers  and  took  the 
road  to  Blauvais.  He  pursued  his  rapid  journey  through 
Abbeville  and  Lille  to  Ghent ;  and  left  the  pathway  to 
the  throne  of  France  open  and  free  to  the  adventurous 
feet  of  him  before  whom  so  many  kings  in  turn  had 
trembled.  . 

At  the  same  hour  when  Louis  XVIII.  was  leaving 
Paris,  Napoleon  was  entering  Fontainbleau.  The  perils 
and  uncertainties  of  the  journey  were  now  over;  and 
Napoleon  enjoyed  a  moment's  leisure  to  contemplate  the 
sudden  and  potentous  splendor  of  his  new  position.  Nor 
cud  he  attempt  to  conceal  the  exulting  rapture  with  which 
he  assumed  once  more  the  accustomed  reins  of  empire. 
His  journey,  especially  the  latter  portion  of  it,  was  the 
source  of  infinite  pleasure  to  his  ambitious  rnind  \  for  du- 
ring its  progress  he  received  unanswerable  proofs  that  he 
still  remained  after  so  many  misfortunes  and  vicissitudes, 


HIS  RECEPTION  AT  THE  TUTLLERIES.  30! 

the  supreme  idol  of  his  beloved  France.  And  as  he  pro- 
gressed toward  the  great  capital  to  whose  embellishment 
and  splendor  in  former  years  he  had  contributed  so  much, 
he  appeared  to  become  buoyant  with  an  unaccustomed 
glow  of  rapture  and  enthusiasm.  He  seemed  to  mount  on 
wings  of  glory  to  the  towering  summit  of  that  great  and 
brilliant  throne  from  which  he  had  so  long  intimidated 
Europe,  and  had  been  the  object  of  the  world's  mingled 
awe  and  admiration. 

At  nine  o'clock  on  the  twentieth  of  March,  Napoleon 
entered  the  halls  of  the  Tuilleries.  A  vast  crowd  of  gen- 
erals, officers,  statesmen  and  soldiers,  filled  the  spacious 
apartments,  waiting  to  receive  and  welcome  him.  His 
entrance  was  the  signal  for  general  shouts  of  enthusiasm. 
A  brilliant  crowd  of  epaulettes  immediately  surrounded 
him.  They  congratulated  him  with  the  utmost  enthu- 
siasm, and  many  distinguished  ladies  of  the  imperial  court 
crowded  their  fair  forms  into  the  press,  reached  the  em- 
peror, and  fervently  kissed  his  hands,  his  cheeks,  and  even 
his  clothes.  Such  transports  of  joy  had  never  before  been 
seen  within  the  hollow  and  artificial  precincts  of  a  palace. 
A  reception  more  gratifying  to  the  personal  vanity  of  the 
great  hero  could  not  possibly  have  been  offered  him.  He 
retired  that  night  to  sleep  with  sweeter  dreams  and  with 
brighter  reveries  of  airy  and  fantastic  hope,  than  his  ardent 
imagination  had  ever  before  indulged.  If  ever  there  was 
an  hour  which  was  supremely  happy  and  felicitous 
throughout  the  tempestuous  and  chequered  life  of  that 
extraordinary  man,  it  must  have  been  during  the  first 
night  of  his  abode  in  the  Tuilleries.  after  his  dangerous 
and  uncertain  journey  from  Elba.  It  was  happier  and 


302  FIRST  PROOFS  OF  TREACHERY. 

more  exquisite  in  its  joy,  than  the  hour  when  he  first 
placed  the  imperial  diadem  on  his  aspiring  head ;  than  the 
hour  when  he  first  folded  the  fair  and  youthful  form  of 
the  blushing  daughter  of  many  Caesars  in  his  arms ;  than 
the  hour  when  he  first  imprinted  a  father's  kiss  on  the  in- 
fant brow  of  the  apparent  heir  of  such  bright  hopes,  and 
such  a  gorgeous  destiny  as  those  of  the  king  of  Rome ;  it 
was  happier  because  hk  recent  humiliation  and  exile  had 
taught  him  better  to  appreciate  the  splendors  of  his 
former  position,  and  to  estimate  more  truly  its  unequalled 
grandeur  and  felicity. 

The  early  dawn  of  the  next  morning  dissolved  at  once 
this  empty  and  delusive  dream.  Great  as  seemed  the  re- 
joicing at  his  return,  Napoleon  found  it  almost  impossible 
to  obtain  competent  persons  who  were  willing  to  assume 
the  responsibility  of  holding  the  reins  of  office  under  him. 
This  ominous  fact  proved  that  of  the  many  able  men  who 
then  surrounded  him,  none  believed  in  the  perpetuity  of 
his  supremacy.  He  immediately  summoned  to  his  pres- 
ence his  most  able  and  trusted  advisers.  They  obeyed; 
but  declined  to  accept  the  ministries  offered  them.  Cam- 
baceres  was  offered  the  ministry  of  justice ;  but  he  refused 
it.  Caulaincourt  was  offered  the  portfolio  of  foreign  af- 
fairs ;  but  he  too  declined.  Carnot  was  offered  that  of 
the  interior,  with  the  same  result.  Fouche,  the  most 
treacherous,  unprincipled,  and  infamous  of  human  be- 
ings, alone  was  willing  to  resume  his  ancient  functions  of 
minister  of  police ;  but  even  he  resumed  them  only  to 
work  the  ruin,  and  to  accelerate  the  downfall,  of  his  mas- 
ter. After  very  considerable  difficulty,  and  only  in  con- 
sequence of  Napoleon's  peremptory  commands,  the  gov- 


EUROPEAN  CONSPIRACY  AGAINST  NAPOLEON.     303 

ernment  was  distributed  into  the  hands  of  Davoust,  Mole, 
Frochet,  Maret,  and  Caulaincourt. 

And  now  having  made  these  preliminary  arrangements, 
Napoleon  had  a  moment  of  leisure  to  look  around  him,  to 
ascertain  his  real  position,  and  to  estimate  the  prodigious 
dangers  and  difficulties  of  that  position.  He  sat  upon  a 
brilliant  but  a  tottering  throne ;  and  a  whole  continent 
excited  with  rage  and  hostility  against  him  were  arming 
themselves  and  summoning  their  utmost  resources  to  pre- 
cipitate him  from  his  uneasy  eminence,  and  overwhelm 
him  with  utter  ruin. 

On  the  twenty-fifth  of  March,  1815,  a  treaty  was  con- 
cluded at  Vienna  between  the  sovereigns  of  Russia,  Prus- 
sia, Austria,  and  Great  Britain,  by  which  they  bound 
themselves  to  combine  their  forces  against  Bonaparte  and 
his  faction,  in  order  to  prevent  him  from  again  disturbing 
the  peace  of  Europe.  They  each  agreed  to  furnish  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty  thousand  soldiers  for  the  prosecution  of 
the  war,  and  if  it  were  necessary  to  crush  the  power  of 
their  general  foe,  to  call  forth  their  whole  military  re- 
sources of  every  description.  They  also  bound  them- 
selves by  solemn  oath  never  to  lay  down  their  arms  nor  to 
conclude  peace  until  they  had  accomplished  the  complete 
destruction  of  Napoleon.  Within  a  fortnight  after  the 
ratification  of  this  treaty,  all  the  lesser  powers  of  Europe 
had  signified  their  accession  to  it.  The  contingent  forces 
of  the  different  countries  were  assessed  according  to  their 
respective  ability ;  that  of  Bavaria  at  sixty  thousand  men ; 
that  of  Piedmont  at  thirty  thousand ;  that  of  Hanover  at 
twenty-six  thousand,  and  other  states  at  lesser  numbers. 

It  will  thus  be  perceived  that  all  the  powers  of  Europe 


304  SUM  TOTAL  OF  THEIR  ARMIES. 

were  now,  for  the  first  time,  arrayed  against  Napoleon. 
For  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  world,  a  whole 
continent  rose  up  at  once  in  arms,  to  crush  a  single  man. 
The  sum  total  of  the  military  forces  which  would  now  be 
brought  to  bear  against  the  mighty  Corsican,  were  in- 
deed prodigious,  and  might  have  appalled  a  heart  even  as 
heroic  and  as  resolute  as  his.  They  amounted  very  near- 
ly to  a  million  of  men.  The  confederate  monarchs  re- 
solved to  form  three  great  armies.  The  first  composed 
of  two  hundred  and  sixty-five  thousand  men,  under  the 
command  of  Prince  Schwartzenberg,  was  to  assemble  on 
the  Tipper  Rhine.  The  second,  numbering  a  hundred 
and  fifty-five  thousand  men,  under  the  order  of  Marshal 
Blticher,  was  to  form  on  the  Lower  Rhine.  The  third 
composed  of  an  equal  number  of  men,  were  to  assemble 
in  Belgium.  The  military  force  then  at  the  command  of 
the  confederated  foes  of  Napoleon,  amounted  to  more 
than  the  six  hundred  thousand  men,  which  were  to  be 
distributed  in  these  three  great  bodies.  There  was  also 
a  Russian  reserve  of  a  hundred  and  sixty-eight  thousand, 
under  the  command  of  Barclay  de  Tolly,  which  was  rap- 
idly hastening  toward  the  scene  of  conflict.  These 
swelled  the  number  of  veteran  soldiers  who,  within  six 
weeks  time  after  Napoleon's  arrival  at  the  Tuilleries,  were 
in  motion  against  him,  to  very  nearly  the  prodigious  mul- 
titude of  seven  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men.*  In 

•  The  composition  of  the  principal  armies  of  this  immense  host  was  as  follows: 
L  Army  of  Upper  Rhine,  Schwartzenberg,  viz. : 

Austrians, 150,000 

Bavarians, 66,000 

"Wirtemherg, : 25,000 

Baden, 16,000 

Hessians,  Ac.,    8,000 

264,000 


DESPERATE  NATURE  OF  THE  CONFLICT.          395 

fact "  Europe,"  as  Metternich  himself  declared  in  the  Eu- 
ropean Observer,  "  has  declared  war  against  Bonaparte." 
It  was  not  a  single  power,  or  even  a  confederacy  of  powers  ; 
but  a  whole  continent  which  had  arisen  in  wrath  to  take 
vengeance  on  that  haughty  and  aspiring  head,  for  many  pre- 
vious years  of  suffering,  for  the  most  unparalleled  insults 
and  aggressions,  for  the  black  despair  and  ignominy  which 
he  had  inflicted  on  them  so  long,  and  with  such  apparent 
impunity.  One  of  those  great  decisive  crises  had  now 
arrived,  which  determine  the  fate  of  the  whole  world  for 
ages  to  come.  On  the  issue  of  the  impending  struggle, 
the  stability  of  all  the  thrones  in  Europe  then  depended. 
If  Napoleon  was  conquered,  they  and  all  their  innumera- 
ble interests  and  institutions  would  remain.  If  he 
triumphed,  his  terrific  vengeance  would  sweep  away  with 
a  fury  such  as  he  alone  could  exhibit,  every  prop  to  their 
thrones,  and  they  would  be  completely  ruined  and 
obliterated. 

Napoleon  nerved  himself  to  meet  this  last  great  strug- 
gle, not  merely  for  glory  and  empire,  but  even  for  life  and 
honor,  with  a  degree  of  energy,  resolution  and  uncon- 
querable heroism,  such  as  has  never  before  or  since  been 
displayed  hi  history.  He  was  opposed  and  menaced  by 
a  coalition  such  as  no  other  man  would  have  dared  to 
confront,  or  ever  did  confront.  Alexander  the  Great, 
when  he  marched  to  the  conquest  of  Persia,  knew  that 

IL  Army  of  Lower  Ehine,  Blucher,  Prussians, 

Saxons,  <fec., 155,000 

IIL  Army  of  Flanders — British,  Belgians,  Hano- 

verans,  Brunswickers 155,000 

IV.  Russian  Reserve,  Barclay  de  Tolly, 168.000 

748,000 
—See  PLOTHO,  iv.,  Appendix,  p.  62;  and  CAPEFISUB,  i.,  380, 831, 

20 


306  NAPOLEON'S  HEROIC  SPIRIT. 

the  vast  hordes  of  Darius  were  imbecile,  luxurious  and 
timid.  Caesar  never  met  so  mighty  a  host,  or  faced  so 
powerful  a  foe  on  the  plains  of  Gaul.  We  will  search  in 
vain  in  all  the  annals  of  ancient  or  modern  heroism  for  a 
parallel  to  this  last  prodigious  struggle  of  Napoleon  to 
repel  the  armed  and  veteran  multitudes  who,  under  the 
command  of  the  most  able  generals,  came  swelling  up  to- 
ward France  from  every  quarter  of  Europe,  like  the 
mighty  tide  of  a  shoreless  ocean,  to  overwhelm  him,  and 
consign  him  to  oblivion.  His  heroism  then  became  the 
heroism  of  desperation ;  such  heroism  as  induces  men  to 
put  forth  unequalled  efforts  in  the  last  extremity ;  the  he- 
roism which  leads  warriors  to  advance  to  certain  glory 
and  death  in  the  forlorn  hope ;  the  heroism  which  supe- 
rior spirits  alone  display  when,  immediately  before  they 
leave  the  world,  they  expend  all  their  energies  in  one 
final,  convulsive,  dying  throe.  The  campaign  of  Napo- 
leon during  the  hundred  days  stands  forth,  unfortunate  as 
was  its  termination  to  him,  preeminent  above  ah1  other 
epochs  of  military  history,  and  resplendant  with  un- 
equalled glory  and  renown. 

At  that  moment  the  arsenals  and  fortresses  of  France 
were  nearly  empty  in  consequence  of  the  immense  ex- 
haustion which  had  taken  place  during  the  proceeding 
years.  By  the  recent  treaty  at  Paris  twelve  thousand 
pieces  of  cannon  distributed  in  fifty-three  fortresses,  had 
been  ceded  to  the  enemies  of  France.  Yet  the  genius  of 
Napoleon  in  this  great  crisis  rose  triumphant  above  every 
obstacle,  and  nobly  asserted  its  ancient  supremacy.  He 
at  once  began  the  reorganization  and  enlargement  of  the 
army.  The  eagles  of  the  old  regiments  which  had  been 


HIS  IMMENSE  ACTIVITY.  807 

taken  from  them  by  Louis  XVHI.  were  restored ;  and 
with  them  came  back  the  martial  spirit  and  love  for  Na- 
poleon, which  had  so  often  led  those  veterans  to  victory 
and  to  glory.  Three  additional  battalions  were  ordered 
for  each  regiment.  Napoleon  invited  all  the  retired  vet- 
erans of  the  empire  once  more  to  come  forward,  and  join 
the  standards  and  the  fortunes  of  their  ancient  leader. 
Two  additional  squadrons  were  ordered  to  each  regi- 
ment of  cavalry.  Thirty  new  battalions  of  artillery  were 
raised  from  the  sailors  in  the  fleets  in  Cherbourg,  Brest, 
and  Toulon.  Forty  battalions  in  twenty  regiments  were 
added  to  the  Young  Guard.  Two  hundred  battalions  of 
the  National  Guards  were  organized  from  old  and  new 
recruits.  All  France  felt  the  electric  shock  communicated 
by  the  energy,  desperation  and  enthusiasm  of  the  great 
conqueror.  By  these  prodigious  exertions  Napoleon 
hoped  that  by  the  first  of  September  he  would  have  five 
hundred  battalions  of  troops  of  the  line,  and  fifty-two  of 
the  guards,  numbering  all  together  about  six  hundred 
thousand  men. 

It  was  still  more  difficult  to  feed,  clothe,  and  arm  so 
great  a  multitude  in  so  short  a  time,  than  it  was  to  obtain 
their  enlistment.  But  even  this  task  was  not  too  great 
for  the  unconquerable  energy  of  Napoleon.  He  imme- 
diately doubled  the  number  of  workmen  in  all  the  manu- 
factories of  arms  throughout  the  country.  He  thus  ob- 
tained twenty  thousand  muskets  per  month.  The  old 
"bruised  arms"  were  everywhere  called  into  requisition; 
they  were  repaired,  burnished  up,  and  made  fit  for  use. 
Additional  workmen  were  employed,  and  the  foundries 
were  everywhere  put  in  active  operation  for  the  manufac- 


308  NEW  CONSTITUTION  PROCLAIMED. 

ture  of  artillery.  Innumerable  horses  were  purchased 
throughout  the  whole  of  France.  Even  draught  horses 
were  bought  from  the  wagons  of  the  farmers  to  draw  the 
guns.  The  arming  of  the  troops  and  the  equipment  of 
the  cannon  progressed  with  extraordinary  rapidity.  The 
activity  and  energy  of  Napoleon  were  prodigious.  By 
the  beginning  of  June,  1815,  two  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  men  were  fully  armed  and  equipped.  Many  of 
these  were  the  old  retired  veterans  of  the  empire,  the 
heroes  of  Borodino,  Jena,  and  Austerlitz,  who  had  joy- 
fully responded  to  the  call  of  their  illustrious  leader,  to 
step  forward  to  his  aid  in  this  the  hour  of  his  greatest  ne- 
cessity. For  all  these  vast  and  expensive  preparations, 
payment  was  made  with  what  ready  money  the  treasury 
then  contained,  and  with  orders  on  the  treasury,  redeema- 
ole  at  a  future  and  sometimes  a  distant  period. 

Another  measure  and  one  more  pacific  in  its  nature,  it 
became  Napoleon  at  that  crisis  to  take,  in  order  to  secure 
the  full  and  enthusiastic  confidence  of  the  nation.  This 
was  the  formation  and  proclamation  of  a  constitution 
adapted  to  the  then  existing  state  of  public  feeling,  and 
his  own  altered  and  uncertain  fortunes.  There  was  then 
a  strong  liberal  party  in  the  French  chambers,  the  relics 
of  the  old  Jacobin  faction  of  the  revolution,  at  the  head 
of  whom  stood  Fouche  and  Carnot ;  who  pretended  to 
insist  on  a-  democratic  empire  or  sovereignty,  with  Napo- 
leon at  its  head.  These  must  be  appeased  as  well  as  the 
other  conflicting  parties  in  the  state.  At  length  after 
considerable  discussion  a  constitution  was  agreed  upon, 
of  which  the  prominent  provisions  were  these.  First,  the 
peerage  was  declared  to  be  hereditary,  thus  reviving  hi 


ITS  PUBLIC  RATIFICATION.  309 

•ubstance  the  old  feudal  nobility.  Second,  the  confisca- 
tion of  property  for  political  offences  was  abolished,  ex- 
cept for  high  treason.  Third,  the  family  of  the  Bourbons 
was  forever  banished  from  the  soil  of  France. 

After  the  provisions  of  this  constitution  had  been  agreed 
on  between  the  emperor  and  the  chambers,  the  ratifica- 
tion of  it  by  the  nation  was  deemed  necessary.  To  give 
eclat  and  effect  to  the  ceremony,  it  was  resolved  that  the 
ratification  should  take  place  on  the  Champ  de  Mai  at 
Paris,  with  extraordinary  pomp  ;  and  that  the  splendor  of 
the  occasion  and  of  its  incidents  should  be  such  as  to  im- 
press the  nation  and  the  world  with  the  great  enthusiasm 
which  was  still  entertained  for  the  emperor,  and  of  the 
interest  still  taken  in  his  fortunes. 

Accordingly,  for  a  month  previous  to  the  appointed 
day  many  thousands  of  workmen  were  employed  in  the 
necessary  preparations.  Vast  ranges  of  benches  rising  in 
the  form  of  a  circular  ampitheater,  were  constructed, 
capable  of  accommodating  two  hundred  thousand  persons. 
Preparations  were  also  made  for  conducting  the  religious 
ceremonies,  and  the  political  canvass,  with  the  most  gorg- 
eous magnificence.  When  the  appointed  day  arrived  the 
sun  rose  brightly  in  the  serene  heavens,  and  all  nature 
seemed  to  assume  her  most  smiling  and  propitious  garb. 
An  innumerable  multitude  crowded  the  benches,  and  pre- 
sented a  spectacle  similar  to  that  which  the  mighty  Col- 
iseum at  Rome  might  have  displayed,  when,  in  the  days  of 
her  imperial  splendor  the  inhabitants  of  the  mistress  of 
the  world  assembled  there  to  witness  the  performances 
of  Nero  on  the  violin,  the  deadly  combat  of  trained  glad- 
iators, or  tl.e  destruction  of  Christian  martyrs  by  savage, 


810  SPLENDORS  OF  THE  OCCASION. 

wild  beasts.  The  religious  ceremony  commenced  the 
proceedings.  One  cardinal,  two  "archbishops,  and  four 
bishops  took  part  in  the  celebration  of  high  mass.  Such 
music  as  had  never  before  been  heard  in  Paris,  save  un- 
der the  lofty  vaults  of  Notre  Dame,  reverberated  through 
the  open  heavens,  and  was  wafted  afar  on  the  free  winds. 
Napoleon  surrounded  by  his  chamberlains,  his  pages,  his 
marshals  and  generals,  attended  by  brilliant  staffs  and 
retinues  and  all  the  pomp  and  splendor  of  the  old  empire, 
assisted  at  the  ceremonies.  Thirty  thousand  of  the  Na- 
tional Guards  added  by  their  presence  to  the  military 
grandeur  of  the  imposing  scene.  Four  thousand  electors 
chosen  by  all  the  electoral  colleges  of  France,  cast  their 
ballots  for  the  new  constitution  which  had  been  announced. 
They  represented  the  votes  of  the  fifteen  hundred  thou- 
sand citizens  who  had  thus  instructed  them,  in  opposition 
to  five  thousand  who  had  given  their  voices  against  the 
proposed  constitution,  throughout  the  whole  nation.  It 
was  on  this  memorable  occasion  that  Napoleon  concluded 
the  august  ceremonies  with  these  words:  "Emperor, 
consul,  soldier,  I  owe  everything  to  the  people.  In  pros- 
perity and  adversity,  in  the  field  of  battle,  in  council,  on 
the  throne,  in  exile,  France  has  even  been  the  only  object 
of  my  thoughts  and  actions."  The  emperor  continued 
for  some  time  to  address  the  vast  multitude  with  an  elo- 
quence whose  ruggid  grandeur  and  strength  rivalled  even 
that  of  Demosthenes  himself;  and  then  closed  the  impos- 
ing pageant  with  the  declaration  that "  his  prosperity, 
his  honor,  his  glory,  could  by  no  possibility  be  any  other 
than  the  honor,  the  prosperity  and  the  glory  of  France ; " 
a  declaration  which,  false  as  it  was,  elicited  the  loud  and 


NAPOLEON  JOINS  HIS  ARMY.  311 

long  plaudits  of  that  innumerable  and  enthusiastic  mul 
titude. 

But  more  anxious  and  pressing  cares  demanded  the  im- 
mediate attention  of  Napoleon,  than  that  of  ministering 
to  the  vanity  and  folly  of  Frenchmen.  All  Europe  was 
hastening  to  descend  like  an  avalanche  upon  the  soil  of 
France,  and  to  overwhelm  the  throne  and  empire  of  Na- 
poleon in  one  general  and  eternal  ruin.  For  this  great 
peril  the  last  and  deadliest  which  even  the  Corsican  had 
ever  been  called  to  confront,  he  now  prepared  himself; 
and  as  the  crisis  approached  nearer  and  nearer,  his  efforts 
oecame  more  desperate  and  herculean. 

On  the  seventh  of  June,  he  left  Paris  to  join  his  army. 
Previous  to  his  departure  he  appointed  a  provisional  gov- 
ernment, at  the  head  of  whom  were  placed  his  brothers 
Joseph  and  Lucien,  Cambaceres,  Davoust,  Fouche,  Car- 
not,  and  Caulaincourt.  He  had  fortified  Paris  so  com- 
pletely as  almost  to  render  it  impregnable.  Intrench- 
ments  had  been  erected  to  the  west  of  Montmartre,  in 
one  direction  as  far  as  Clinchy  and  in  the  other  to  Cha- 
venton,  in  which  seven  hundred  pieces  of  cannon  were 
mounted.  The  prodigious  energy  and  animation  of  Na- 
poleon had  filled  the  whole  nation  with  enthusiasm,  and 
already  manned  those  numerous  works  with  able  and  ex- 
perienced gunners.  It  was  Napoleon's  intention  to  oper- 
ate principally  with  the  main  body  of  his  troops,  com- 
posed of  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand  men,  with 
three  hundred  and  fifty  pieces  of  artillery  which  were 
marching  under  his  orders,  toward  Belgium.  Other 
grand  divisions  of  the  army  under  Souchet  and  Rapp, 
were  posted  in  La  Vendee,  Marseilles  and  Bordeaux,  to 


312  HIS  ADDRESS  TO  THE  TROOPS. 

overawe  the  royalists.  The  fate  of  Europe  depended 
solely  on  the  great  central  army  under  the  command  of 
Napoleon  himself. 

On  the  13th  of  June,  the  great  Corsican  joined  his 
camp  for  the  last  time.  It  was  situated  then  at  Avesnes, 
between  the  Sambre  and  Philipville,  and  the  returns 
which  were  immediately  brought  him,  reported  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-two  thousand  men  then  actually  present 
under  arms.  The  arrival  of  Napoleon  filled  this  vast 
armament  with  the  utmost  enthusiasm;  which  was  in 
creased,  if  possible,  by  the  proclamation  which  he  issued 
to  his  troops.  Said  he :  "  Soldiers !  this  is  the  anniver- 
sary of  Marengo  and  Friedland,  of  Austerlitz  and  Wag- 
ram.  If  our  enemies  dare  to  enter  France  they  will  find 
in  it  their  tomb.  Soldiers !  we  have  forced  marches  to 
make,  battles  to  fight,  perils  to  encounter.  But  with  con- 
stancy, the  victory  will  be  ours.  For  every  Frenchman 
who  has  a  heart  within  him,  now  is  the  time  to  conquer 
or  to  die ! "  Once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  the  en- 
thusiastic courage,  the  haughty  and  confident  resolution 
to  triumph,  which  had  characterized  the  veteran  armies, 
both  of  the  empire,  and  the  consulate,  and  had  rendered 
them  the  most  formidable  warriors  that  ever  marched  to 
battle  and  to  victory ;  that  calm  yet  heroic  spirit  was  again 
displayed  and  felt  by  those  who  were  now  about  to  con- 
tend in  mortal  conflict  for  the  future  supremacy  of  Eu- 
rope, under  the  most  able  and  illustrious  of  generals. 
But  it  was  for  the  last  time ;  and  never  more  was  that 
same  spirit  destined  to  pervade  a  great  army,  or  to  cheer 
a  mighty  general  on  to  certain  triumph. 

On  the  15th  of  June,  the  Prussian  army  under  Bliicher 


THE  COMBATANTS  APPROACH  EACH  OTHER.     313 

retired  on  the  approach  of  the  French  from  Charleroi  to 
Fleurus.  It  was  now  the  chief  purpose  of  Napoleon  ef- 
fectively to  separate  the  British  and  Prussian  forces,  and 
to  attack  and  vanquish  them  in  detail.  He  sent  Mar- 
shal Ney,  with  a  detachment  of  forty-six  thousand  men 
to  Quartre-Bras,  situated  on  the  road  to  Brussels.  At 
the  same  time  Napoleon  marched  with  seventy-two  thou- 
sand men  toward  Fleurus,  for  the  purpose  of  falling  on 
the  Prussians.  Bliicher  retreated  from  Fleurus  to  Ligny ; 
and  at  Ligny  the  Prussians  and  French  heroes  engaged 
in  the  first  of  the  three  great  battles  which  marked  the 
memorable  era  of  the  hundred  days. 

The  position  taken  by  Bliicher  at  Ligny  was  strong 
and  well  chosen.  Villages  in  front  of  him  afforded  ex- 
cellent shelter  to  his  troops,  while  his  artillery,  arranged 
on  the  summit  of  a  vast  semi-circular  hill,  swept  the 
whole  line  of  the  French.  At  that  moment  eighty  thou- 
sand men,  among  whom  were  twelve  thousand  cavalry, 
marched  under  the  black  eagles  of  Prussia.  The  large 
detachment  sent  under  Ney  to  check  the  English  had 
weakened  Napoleon  considerably,  and  his  troops  then 
numbered  but  seventy-two  thousand.  The  duke  of  Wel- 
lington, deceived  by  false  intelligence  which  he  had  re- 
ceived from  the  traitor  Fouche — a  traitor  to  Bonaparte, 
and  to  Wellington,  both  to  his  country  and  to  his  coun- 
try's foes — was  quite  unconscious,  even  until  the  morn- 
ing of  the  15th  of  June,  that  the  French  army  was  so 
near,  or  that  the  great  struggle  impended  so  soon.  Wel- 
lington was  then  at  Brussels.  Having  given  orders  that 
all  the  British  troops  should  immediately  assemble  at 

Quartre-Bras,  he  gaily  dressed  himself  and  attended  a  ball 

N 


814  THE  BALL  AT  BRUSSELS. 

at  the  palace  of  the  Duchess  of  Richmond.  The  assem- 
blage was  brilliant  in  the  extreme.  The  beauty,  chivalry, 
and  fashion  of  Belgium  had  congregated  in  those  stately 
halls ;  while  the  most  distinguished  soldiers  and  gener- 
als of  the  British  and  allied  armies  graced  the  scene  with 
their  courtly  presence.  That  company  of  fair  women  and 
brave  men  presented  a  singular  spectacle.  The  license 
of  continental  manners,  the  stirring  excitement  of  the 
tremendous  crisis  which  then  existed,  the  uncertainty  of 
the  future,  all  gave  unusual  romance  to  the  occasion. 
Burning  words  of  love  and  affection  were  uttered  then, 
which  were  the  more  ardent  and  intense  because  the  im- 
pending probabilities  of  the  future  rendered  their  realiza- 
tion so  insecure.  Many  attachments  had  been  formed 
between  the  young  British  officers  who  had  been  sta- 
tioned for  some  months  in  Belgium,  and  the  blooming 
beauties  of  that  land  of  gorgeous  tulips ;  and  now  the 
period  had  arrived  when  these  proffered  contracts  of  un- 
realized felicity  were  soon  either  to  be  forever  broken  by 
death,  or  to  be  happily  consummated.  Sweet,  volup- 
tuous music  floated  on  the  midnight  air ;  and  many  grace- 
ful forms  then  moved  in  harmony  with  bewitching  melo- 
dies, which  were  destined  never  again  to  be  heard  by  them! 

"Soft  eyes  looked  love  to  eyes  which  spake  again, 
And  all  went  merry  as  a  marriage  bell." 

That  brilliant  and  chivalrous  company  were  uncon- 
sciously treading  on  a  sleeping  volcano.  A  sudden  sound 
was  heard  which  struck  terror  into  every  heart  and 
blanched  the  rosiest  cheek.  It  was  the  distant  booming 
of  the  cannon  which  proclaimed  the  unexpected  approach 


THE   BATTLE  OF  LIGNY.  315 

of  the  French,  and  the  commencement  of  the  great  con 
flict.     The  lion  whom  all  Europe  dreaded,  with  one  pro- 
digious bound  had  suddenly  leaped  among  the  gay  and 
unsuspecting  crowd,  spreading  the  utmost  terror  and  dis- 
may.   How  truly  says  the  matchless  poet : 

"Ah  !  then  and  there  was  hurrying  to  and  fro, 
And  gathering  tears,  and  tremblings  of  distress, 
And  cheeks  all  pale,  which  but  an  hour  ago 
Blush'd  at  th'e  praise  of  their  own  loveliness: 
And  there  were  sudden  partings,  such  as  press 
The  life  from  out  young  hearts,  and  choking  sighs 
Which  ne'er  might  be  repeated;  who  could  guess 
If  ever  more  should  meet  those  mutual  eyes, 
Since  upon  night  so  sweet  such  awful  morn  could  rise  ? 

"And  there  was  mounting  in  hot  haste  :  the  steed, 
The  mustering  squadron,  and  the  clattering  car, 
Went  pouring  forward  with  impetuous  speed, 
And  swiftly  forming  in  the  ranks  of  war ; 
And  the  deep  thunder  peal  on  peal  afar ; 
And  near,  the  beat  of  the  alarming  drum 
Roused  up  the  soldier  ere  the  morning  star  ; 
While  throng'd  the  citizens  with  terror  dumb, 
Or  whispering,   with  white   lips— 'The  foe!  They  come!    they 
come ! '  "* 

The  battle  of  Ligny  began  by  a  furious  attack  of  Na- 
poleon on  the  Prussian  right,  which  was  soon  driven 
back  with  immense  slaughter.  Bliicher  quickly  sent 
large  detachments  to  the  aid  of  the  assailed  point,  and 
thereby  sensibly  weakened  his  center.  This  was  pre- 
cisely what  Napoleon  had  desired  and  anticipated.  He 
commanded  his  own  center,  thirty  thousand  strong,  to 
cross  the  streamlet  of  Ligny,  and  attack  the  Prussians. 

*  Childe  Harold,  Canto  III.,  xxiv,  xxv. 


816  DOUBTFUL  NATURE  OF  THE  CONFLICT. 

Then  the  conflict  became  bloody  and  furious  beyond  de- 
scription, and  prodigious  exertions  were  made  on  both 
sides.  Three  times  the  impetuous  assaults  of  the  French 
took  the  village  of  Ligny  from  the  Prussians  ;  and  three 
tunes  were  they  driven  back  again  by  the  desperate  ex- 
ertions of  the  assailed.  The  Prussians  returned  to  the 
charge  again  a'ld  again.  The  combatants  fought  fiercely 
hand  to  hand.  Two  hundred  pieces  of  artillery  thun- 
dered into  the  opposing  masses.  The  houses  and  streets 
of  the  village  were  filled  with  multitudes  of  the  dying  and 
the  dead ;  and  yet  by  seven  o'clock,  after  three  hours' 
conflict,  the  battle  remained  undecided  and  one  half  of 
the  position  continued  in  the  possession  of  the  Prussians, 
and  the  other  half  in  the  possession  of  the  French. 

The  final  issue  of  the  combat  would  have  been  doubt- 
ful ;  but  at  that  moment  a  large  detachment  from  the 
army  of  Ney  arrived  on  the  field  and  rendered  effectual 
assistance  to  Napoleon.  He  then  immediately  ordered 
his  old  guard  to  advance  to'  the  attack.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment all  his  artillery  were  arrayed  in  the  front  line.  The 
dense  columns  of  the  imperial  guard  moved  forward  with 
steady  tread ;  and  in  concert  with  the  artillery  commenced 
a  charge  of  prodigious  fury  upon  the  opposing  masses. 
Twenty  squadrons  of  cuirassiers,  under  the  command  of 
D'Erlon,  also  followed  up  the  attack.  The  Prussian  cen- 
ter after  a  short  resistance  was  completely  crushed  under 
the  tremendous  weight  and  fury  of  this  great  onslaught ; 
and  commenced  to  waver,  to  fall  back,  and  eventually  to 
retreat.  Marshal  Bliicher  fought  to  the  last  with  the  fury 
of  a  lion.  During  the  retreat  he  repeatedly  charged  the 
pursuing  French.  But  his  horse  was  shot  under  him ;  he 


LAST  VICTORY  OF  NAPOLEON.  317 

fell,  and  both  the  Prussian  and  French  cavalry  passed 
over  the  prostrate  body  of  the  marshal,  while  he  lay  on 
the  ground  entangled  beneath  his  dying  horse.  The  vic- 
tory of  Napoleon  was  at  length  complete.  His  loss  was 
six  thousand  eight  hundred  men.  That  of  the  Prussians 
was  fifteen  thousand  men  and  twenty-one  pieces  of 
artillery. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  the  battle  of  Ligny  was  the 
last  in  which  the  aspiring  eagles  of  Napoleon  were  triumph- 
ant. This  was  the  last  victory  which  he  was  destined 
ever  to  achieve,  whose  exploits  in  many  lands,  for  so 
many  years,  had  elicited  such  intense  admiration  through  • 
out  the  whole  world.  On  that  day  the  inconstant  god 
dess  forever  deserted  the  standards  of  him  whom  man 
kind  had  once  not  unaptly  termed  the  favorite  child  of 
victory. 

While  Napoleon  was  combatting  the  Prussians  at 
Ligny,  Marshal  Ney  was  assailing  the  English  army  at 
Quartre-Bras.  The  French  numbered  forty-six  thousand 
men,  with  a  hundred  and  sixteen  cannon.  Only  the  half 
of  this  force  however  was  engaged  at  Quartre-Bras,  in 
consequence  of  the  immense  detachment  sent  by  Ney,  un- 
der General  D'Erlon  to  the  aid  of  Napoleon  at  Ligny. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  conflict  the  Belgian  troops  were 
completely  overthrown.  But  the  divisions  of  Picton  and 
the  Duke  of  Brunswick  arrived  at  that  critical  moment ; 
and  the  conflict  than  began  in  earnest.  There  were  about 
twenty  thousand  men  engaged  on  each  side.  The  French 
cuirassiers  charged  upon  the  English  infantry  with  the 
utmost  ferocity.  The  artillery  of  the  French  ploughed 
through  and  through  the  dense  squares  into  which  the 


318  THE  BATTLE  OF  QUARTRE-BRAS. 

English  had  been  formed.  But  the  steadiness  and  hero- 
ism of  the  latter  remained  unshaken  ;  and  thus  the  issue 
seemed  again  doubtful  between  such  desperate  fortitude 
on  both  sides,  when  the  arrival  of  Wellington  on  the  field 
with  a  reinforcement  often  thousand  men,  at  once  changed 
the  aspect  of  affairs.  The  battle  was  still  continued  with 
increased  fury,  but  the  repeated  and  desperate  charges 
of  the  French  were  as  often  effectively  repulsed,  and  with 
immense  losses.  The  day  waned  and  night  approached. 
In  vain  Marshal  Ney  put  forth  his  utmost  exertions.  The 
greater  numbers,  the  steadiness,  and  the  resolution  of  the 
allies,  were  too  much  even  for  the  "  bravest  of  the  brave." 
When  night  fell  the  battle  ceased.  The  allies  were  tri- 
umphant, and  the  exhausted  troops  of  the  French  mar- 
shal retired  to  Frasnes,  a  mile  from  the  field  of  battle. 
The  allies  slept  that  night  upon  the  ensanguined  plain, 
and  their  victory  was  complete.  The  French  lost  four 
thousand  men,  the  allies  lost  five  thousand ;  but  this  un- 
usual disproportion  between  the  conquerors  and  the  con- 
quered resulted  from  the  immense  number  of  French 
artillery. 

All  these  minor  engagements  were  only  preparatory  to 
the  greater  conflict  which  was  to  occur,  and  which  was  to 
be  decisive  and  final  in  its  effects.  During  the  1 7th  of 
June  the  English  and  French  armies  were  busily  converg- 
ing toward  the  memorable  plain  of  Waterloo.  The  day 
was  wet.  The  water  fell  in  torrents,  and  the  roads  were 
almost  impassable.  Shivering  and  dripping  with  the  rain 
those  vast  multitudes  silently  took  up  their  appointed 
positions  on  the  field  of  battle ;  and  at  night  they  laid 
down  to  rest  in  deep  mud  and  large  pools  oi  water. 


IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  CRISIS.  319 

Few  even  of  the  bravest  slept  during  the  solemn  nours 
of  that  night.  The  awful  grandeur  and  importance  of 
the  event  which  was  to  ensue  on  the  succeeding  day  im- 
pressed even  the  most  thoughtless.  To  that  spot  then 
were  directed  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the  whole  of  Europe. 
Never  before,  since  the  beginning  of  time,  had  men  con- 
tended for  stakes  of  such  prodigious  magnitude.  Upon  the 
uncertain  issue  of  the  coming  battle  depended  the  fate  of 
that  mighty  hero  whose  achievements  had  far  transcended 
the  achievements  of  all  other  men.  A  conflict  was  about 
to  be  fought  more  decisive  and  important  than  that  of 
Marathon,  of  Pharsalia,  of  Cannae,  or  of  Blenheim.  The 
destiny  of  a  greater  conqueror  than  either  Miltiades, 
Caesar,  Hannibal,  or  Marlborough,  then  hung  trembling  in 
the  doubtful  balance.  And  now  for  the  first  time,  the 
two  ablest  generals  of  that  age  were  about  to  measure 
their  swords  together,  and  the  future  fate  of  each  entirely 
depended  on  the  issue.  If  the  British  were  defeated,  re- 
treat even  from  the  battle-field  would  be  impossible.  The 
dense  forest  of  Soignies  in  their  rear  would  cut  off  every 
possibility  of  escape.  If  Napoleon  was  vanquished,  his 
fortunes  were  ruined  forever,  and  he  would  become 
thenceforth  either  a  captive  or  a  fugitive  on  the  earth. 
And  those  who  were  about  to  engage  in  this  great  strug- 
gle were  fuEy  conscious  of  the  supreme  importance  of 
the  occasion. 

At  length  the  heavy  hours  of  night  wore  away.  The 
busy  sounds  of  hurried  preparation,  the  confused  and 
multitudinous  hum  which  betokened  the  near  presence 
of  mighty  armaments,  and  which  had  echoed  from  both 
camps  during  the  night,  gradually  ceased.  The  morning 


320  THE  BATTLE  OF  WATERLOO. 

of  the  eighteenth  of  June,  1815,  dawned  upon  the  world, 
and  with  the  light  there  came  that  hour  pregnant  with 
the  fate  of  so  many  millions  of  human  beings ;  the  hour 
to  which  the  events  of  preceding  centuries  had  long 
converged ;  the  hour  to  which  many  ages  yet  to  come 
will  point  as  the  great  decisive  epoch  which  moulded  the 
fate  of  a  continent,  and  even  of  mankind.  The  last  grand 
act  in  the  stupendous  drama  of  Napoleon's  career  was 
now  about  to  commence,  ere  the  curtain  fell  upon  it 
forever. 

When  the  day  dawned  a  hundred  and  seventy-five  thou- 
sand men  sprang  from  their  dripping  beds,  and  arrayed 
themselves  for  the  last  time  for  the  shock  and  the  carnage 
of  battle.  Soon  the  various  regiments  of  both  armies  be- 
gan to  deploy  into  their  assigned  positions.  The  battle- 
field extended  two  miles  in  length  from  the  chateau  of 
Hugoumont  on  the  extreme  right,  to  that  of  La  Haye 
Sainte  on  the  left.  Through  the  center  of  this  line  the 
great  high  road  or  chaussee  from  Brussels  to  Chaiieroi 
passed,  nearly  a  mile  from  the  village  of  Waterloo.  Both 
armies  were  arrayed  on  the  crest  of  gentle  eminences 
somewhat  semi-circular  in  form,  and  parallel  to  each  other, 
between  which  a  natural  slope  or  glacis  intervened.  The 
two  armies  presented  a  magnificent  appearance.  The 
French  numbered  eighty  thousand,  the  English  and  Bel- 
gians seventy-two  thousand.  Like  huge  serpents  the 
long,  dark  masses  wound  around  the  eminences  to  the 
thrilling  sound  of  martial  music,  and  gradually  formed 
i:ito  line.  Napoleon  had  two  hundred  and  fifty  cannon- 
the  English  a  hundred  and  fifty-six.  The  French  troops 
were  formed  in  three  lines,  each  flanked  by  dense  masses 


ITS  COMMENCEMENT.  321 

of  cavalry.  Their  brilliant  uniforms  and  dazzling  arms 
presented  a  gorgeous  and  imposing  spectacle.  The  Eng. 
lish  troops  were  drawn  up  for  the  most  part  in  solid 
squares,  supported  by  cavalry  in  the  rear.  In  front  of 
their  whole  position  their  artillery  were  skilfully  arrayed, 
directly  facing  the  formidable  number  of  guns  displayed 
by  the  French.  Appearances  were  certainly  in  favor  of 
Napoleon  before  the  battle  began,  both  as  to  the  number, 
the  equipment,  and  the  arrangement  of  his  troops.  On 
that  great  day,  each  of  the  opposing  commanders  had  ex- 
erted his  utmost  skill,  and  had  exhausted  the  whole  mili- 
tary art,  in  the  disposition  of  their  respective  armies,  so  as 
to  increase  their  effectiveness  to  the  fullest  degree. 

Just  as  the  village  clock  at  Nivelles  struck  eleven,  Na- 
poleon gave  the  order  to  commence  the  combat  from  the 
center  of  his  lines.  The  column  of  Jerome,  six  thousand 
strong,  first  attacked  the  English  posted  in  the  chateau 
of  Hugoumont.  A  vigorous  contest  here  took  place 
which  resulted  in  the  dislodgment  of  the  English  troops, 
and  the  conflagration  of  the  edifice.  This  conflict  how- 
ever was  only  intended  by  Napoleon  to  conceal  the  main 
point  of  attack,  which  was  in  the  right  center.  The  can- 
nonade had  now  become  general  along  the  whole  line. 
Ney  was  ordered  to  attack  the  British  stationed  along 
the  hedge,  and  in  the  chateau  of  La  Haye  Sainte.  This 
was  the  strongest  position  held  by  Wellington.  As  soon 
as  the  latter  perceived  the  large  masses  of  troops  which 
were  marching  against  this  portion  of  his  line,  he  drew  up 
the  splendid  and  powerful  regiment  of  the  Scotch  Greys, 
the  Enniskillers,  and  the  Queen's  Bays  in  its  support. 

The  French  columns   steadily  pressed  up  the  slope  till 

N*  21 


322  INCIDENTS  OF  THE  CONFLICT. 

within  twenty  yards  of  the  British  guns.  Here  a  furious 
conflict  ensued.  The  heroic  Picton  fell  at  the  head  of 
his  regiment  as  he  waved  forward  his  troops  with  his 
sword. ,  The  Scotch  Greys  attacked  their  foes  with  pro- 
digious energy  and  effect.  The  French  columns  then 
wavered.  The  Scotch,  shouting  "Scotland  forever," 
rushed  on  to  the  attack.  They  carried  a  battery  of 
twenty  guns ;  charged  the  second  line ;  routed  it ;  and 
assailed  the  third.  The  third  line  of  the  French  even  be- 
gan to  yield,  when  Napoleon,  perceiving  the  greatness  of 
the  disaster,  ordered  Milhaud's  cuirassiers  to  charge  the 
advancing  foe.  In  this  collision  the  brave  Ponsonby  died 
a  heroic  death ;  and  so  desperate  was  the  conflict  that  the 
returning  Scotch  brought  back  with  them  scarcely  a  fifth 
part  of  their  original  number.  As  Napoleon  gazed  from 
the  eminence  on  which  he  stood  while  he  surveyed  the  battle, 
at  the  splendid  and  effective  charge  of  the  brave  Scotch 
cavalry  he  exclaimed :  Ges  terribles  chevaux  gris  ;  comma 
ils  travaillentl  But  before  the  Scotch  had  completed 
their  charge,  they  had  broken  and  dispersed  a  column  of 
five  thousand  men ;  had  taken  two  thousand  prisoners ; 
and  had  either  captured  or  spiked  eighty  pieces  of  can- 
non,  which  comprised  the  whole  of  Ney's  artillery. 

Undismayed  by  this  disaster  Napoleon  ordered  twenty 
thousand  cuirassiers,  under  the  command  of  Milhaud,  to 
advance  to  the  support  of  Ney  in  the  center.  Soon  La 
Ilaye  Sainte  was  taken.  An  entire  battalion  of  Hano- 
verian troops  was  almost  destroyed  by  the  French,  but 
their  tide  of  conquest  was  terminated  by  Wellington  or- 
dering up  the  Life  Guards,  the  Royal  Horse  Guards,  and 
the  1st  Dragoon  Guards  to  the  defense.  The  advance  of 


DESPERATE  HEROISM  OF  THE  COMBATANTS.      323 

the  French  was  then  stopped ;  but  Napoleon  being  de 
termined  to  carry  the  important  post  of  La  Haye  Sainte, 
brought  up  his  whole  body  of  light  cavalry  to  the  attack. 
Wellington  still  resisted  these  furious  and  repeated  on- 
slaughts on  his  lines,  by  ordering  up  to  their  support  his 
whole  reserve,  and  the  Belgian  regiments  which  were 
stationed  in  the  rear. 

Thus  for  three  hours  the  uncertain  conflict  raged 
throughout  the  whole  length  of  the  contending  lines,  with 
the  most  desperate  fury.  Prodigious  acts  of  heroism  wert 
performed  by  many  whose  names  have  long  since  de- 
scended with  them  to  their  gory  and  forgotten  graves, 
on  that  ensanguined  field.  The  dead  and  dying  lay  piled 
in  immense  heaps,  and  the  whole  of  the  contending  ar- 
mies were  involved  in  the  dense  smoke  and  the  thunder- 
ing uproar  of  battle.  Neither  appeared  willing  to  yield. 
Both  seemed  determined  to  conquer  or  to  perish.  As 
evening  approached  Napoleon  saw  the  necessity  of  com- 
bining his  energies,  and  by  one  prodigious  effort  to  carry 
the  day.  All  along  the  line,  two  miles  in  length,  the  con- 
flict raged  with  terrific  fury ;  but  it  was  now  destined  to 
become  more  furious,  more  deadly,  more  destructive  still. 
Suddenly  at  half  past  four  o'clock,  a  dark  mass  appeared 
in  the  distance,  moving  in  the  direction  of  Frischermont. 
It  was  a  Prussian  corps,  sixteen  thousand  strong,  who 
were  hastening  toward  the  scene  of  conflict.  Napoleon 
immediately  detached  Lobun  with  seven  thousand  men  to 
arrest  their  progress ;  while  he  himself  determined,  at  that 
critical  moment  to  put  into  execution  his  last  and  great- 
est  resource,  the  one  which  had  rarely  failed  to  win  the 
victory  to  his  standards,  and  to  crush  the  moat  powerful, 


324      THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  OLD  GUARD. 

enthusiastic,  and  formidable  foes.  This  was  to  bring  for 
ward  the  grand  attack  of  the  Old  Imperial  Guard.  It 
was  this  veteran  corps  which  had  decided  the  fate  of 
Europe  on  many  great  battle  fields.  It  was  this  corps 
which  had  made  the  best  troops  of  Austria  quail  and  flee 
at  Friedland  and  Wagram ;  which  had  broken  the  power 
of  the  Prussian  columns  at  Jena  and  Lutzen ;  which  had 
overwhelmed  the  Russian  lines  at  Borodino  and  Auster- 
litz.  Napoleon  himself  now  rode  through  the  ranks  of 
these  grim  and  dauntless  warriors,  and  harangued  them 
with  a  few  words  of  burning  eloquence.  He  briefly  told 
them  that  the  fate  of  the  day,  his  own  fate,  and  the  fate 
of  France  and  Europe  now  depended  upon  themselves. 
Loud  shouts  of  Vive  VEmpereur  in  reply  echoed  far  and 
wide  over  the  plain,  and  drowned  for  a  moment,  even  the 
mighty  thunder  of  the  cannon.  Napoleon  accompanied  his 
veteran  heroes  a  considerable  way  down  the  slope  on  their 
advance;  and  as  each  column  defiled  before  him,  he 
addressed  them  words  of  stirring  eulogy  and  hope, 
which  revived  or  increased  their  courage.  They  advanced 
to  the  final  attack  of  the  British  center  in  two  great  mas- 
ses, one  of  which  was  led  by  Marshal  Ney,  the  other  by 
General  Reille. 

Never  before,  hi  the  memorable  annals  of  warfare,  had 
there  been  such  a  shock  as  that  which  took  place  when 
the  Old  Guards,  having  approached  with  solemn  and  steady 
tread  within  forty  feet  of  the  English  lines,  commenced 
with  their  ancient  heroism  and  resolution  the  task  of  van- 
quishing their  desperate  and  powerful  foes.  The  very 
earth  shook  beneath  that  terrific  shock.  They  were  met 
by  the  English  Foot  Guards,  and  the  73d  and  30th  regi- 


THE  IMPERIAL  GUARD  RECOIL.  325 

ments,  with  a  heroism  equal  to  their  own.  The  eyes  of 
all  the  combatants  were  turned  toward  the  spot  where 
that  deadly  conflict  was  taking  place.  Quickly  and  with 
desperate  energy  all  the  most  destructive  evolutions  of 
warfare  were  executed.  The  combatants  seemed  deter- 
mined each  to  conquer  or  to  perish.  Immortal  deeds 
were  then  achieved,  which  find  no  superior  in  all  the  blood- 
stained annals  of  military  glory  and  ambition.  But  Wel- 
lington had  made  admirable  dispositions  to  meet  this  last 
grand  attack  of  the  Old  Guard,  which  had  also  been  an- 
ticipated. He  had  stationed  his  artillery  so  as  completely 
to  sweep  their  lines ;  and  as  they  approached  near  to  his 
position,  his  batteries  were  unmasked,  and  they  poured 
into  the  advancing  host  a  prodigious  storm  of  iron  hail. 
The  first  lines  of  the  Imperial  Guards  melted  like  frost- 
work as  they  came  within  range  of  the  terrible  guns ;  and 
though  those  in  the  rear  resolutely  pressed  on  to  the  at- 
tack, they  made  no  further  advance.  They  still  crumbled 
away.  A  dead  mass  of  soldiers  rose  higher  and  higher 
above  the  earth ;  but  the  head  of  the  living  column  was 
unable  to  approach  nearer  than  before,  to  the  object  of 
their  attack. 

At  length  the  Imperial  Guard  recoiled.  Napoleon  who 
had  intently  watched  their  progress,  turned  deadly  pale, 
when  he  witnessed  their  useless  heroism  and  their  slow 
and  ignominious  retreat.  Soon  the  horrid  cry  was  re- 
peated along  the  French  lines :  "  Tout  est  pardue,  la, 
Guarde  recuile!"  and  the  enormous  mass,  broken  and  in 
confusion,  fled  in  headlong  retreat  down  the  hill. 

At  this  instant  the  rest  of  the  Prussian  army  under 
Blticher  and  Ziethen  came  within  range  of  the  field,  and 


826  ARRIVAL  OF  BLUCHER. 

opened  a  battery  of  a  hundred  guns  upon  the  tumultu- 
ous masses  of  the  French.  It  was  now  nearly  eight 
o'clock.  Soon  the  Prussians,  thirty-six  thousand  in  num- 
ber, reached  the  French  lines,  and  commenced  a  furious 
attack  upon  the  exhausted  and  disordered  multitudes. 
At  that  moment  the  star  of  Napoleon's  glory,  after  hav- 
ing for  twenty  years  shone  in  unequaled  splendor  near 
the  very  zenith,  trembled,  flickered,  and  then  descended 
in  ominous  gloom,  never  to  rise  again.  In  vain  the  des- 
perate and  ruined  adventurer  strove  to  rally  his  discom- 
fited warriors.  In  vain  he  swept  on  his  noble  charger 
over  the  plain,  recalling  his  faltering  troops  to  return 
once  more  to  the  attack.  Terror  now  pervaded  every 
breast.  The  retreat  became  general;  and  though  Na- 
poleon exposed  himself  in  the  most  dangerous  positions, 
and  seemed  even  to  seek  for  death,  in  restoring  courage 
and  order,  all  were  in  vain ;  and  the  ruin  of  his  army,  his 
fortunes,  and  his  hopes,  was  complete  and  irremediable. 
At  last  exclaiming :  "  All  is  lost !  let  us  save  ourselves !  " 
he  turned  his  horse  and  fled  from  the  field  of  battle.  The 
Prussians  pursued  the  helpless  fugitives  with  a  rancor 
which  only  the  memory  of  the  horrors  of  the  battle  of 
Jena,  and  the  unequaled  outrages  then  committed  by 
Napoleon  on  Prussia,  could  have  excited.  Multitudes 
of  the  retreating  French  were  slain.  The  whole  of  Na- 
poleon's artillery  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  pursuers.  For 
miles  the  earth  was  completely  covered  with  an  innumer- 
able number  of  broken  carriages,  wagons,  baggage,  arms 
and  wrecks  of  every  kind.  Forty  thousand  men  only  es- 
caped out  of  that  vast  and  splendid  armament  of  seventy- 
two  thousand,  who  on  the  morning  of  that  very  day,  full 


TOTAL  DEFEAT  OF  NAPOLEON.        327 

of  martial  pomp  and  pride,  had  marched  under  the  French 
eagles.  Nearly  forty  thousand  had  either  fallen  on  the 
battle-field,  were  wounded,  or  were  taken  prisoners. 
The  loss  of  the  allies  was  sixteen  thousand  killed  and 
wounded.  The  loss  of  the  Prussians  in  the  battles  on  the 
16th  and  18th  of  June,  amounted  to  thirty-three  thousand. 

Thus  ended  in  complete  discomfiture  all  the  prodigious 
efforts  of  Napoleon,  after  his  return  from  Elba,  to  regain 
his  lost  throne,  and  retrieve  his  fallen  fortunes.  He  had 
exhausted  the  whole  of  France  in  making  these  prepara- 
tions, and  now  his  case  was  hopeless.  If  previous  to  the 
battle  of  Waterloo,  his  heroism  had  been  the  heroism  of 
desperation,  mingled  with  hope ;  it  became  now  the  hero- 
ism, if  indeed  it  existed  at  all,  of  black  and  unmitigated 
despair.  It  remained  to  be  seen  whether,  after  such  great 
reverses,  the  resolution  even  of  Napoleon  could  undertake 
any  other  expedients  to  preserve  his  power,  his  freedom, 
or  even  his  existence. 

The  presence  of  Marshal  Bliicher  at  Waterloo,  and  the 
absence  of  Marshal  Grouchy,  were  the  decisive  causes  of 
the  issue  of  that  eventful  day ;  and  the  French  marshal 
has  been  severely  censured  because  of  his  supposed 
treachery  or  dereliction  of  duty.  But  these  censures  are 
wholly  unjust.  In  accordance  with  Napoleon's  own  express 
orders,  Grouchy  went  in  pursuit  of  the  Prussian  corps  un- 
der Theilman  at  Wavres;  and  although  Grouchy  dis- 
tinctly heard  the  cannonading  at  Waterloo  from  Lis  own ' 
position,  yet  he  did  not  dare  to  deviate  in  the  least  ironi 
the  instructions  which  he  had  received  from  Napoleon 
himself.  Even  on  the  morning  of  the  18th  Grouchy  re- 
ceived a  despatch  from  Soult  ordering  him  still  to  con- 


328  NAPOLEON'S  RETURN  TO  PARIS. 

tinue  the  pursuit ;  and  this  fact  is  clearly  indicative  of  the 
confidence  then  entertained  by  Napoleon  as  to  the  certain 
issue  of  the  impending  conflict.  Hence  the  exulting  ex- 
clamation of  Napoleon  himself  on  the  morning  of  the  bat- 
tle of  Waterloo,  when  he  beheld  the  dense  columns  of 
the  English  thrown  into  squares,  and  posted  hi  admirable 
array  on  those  heights  which  were  so  soon  to  be  dyed 
in  blood  and  covered  with  mountains  of  the  wounded  and 
the  slain — "  I  have  these  English  before  me  at  last.  Nine 
chances  out  of  ten  are  in  our  favor !  "  When  too  late, 
Napoleon  discovered  his  error,  and  the  fallacy  of  his  cal- 
culations. Then  would  he  have  given  millions  to  have 
recalled  his  absent  legions,  and  thus  decide  a  moment  so 
pregnant  with  his  unalterable  fate.  But  Grouchy  was 
too  far  distant  either  to  be  reached  by  a  messenger,  or  to 
be  able  to  comply  before  the  fate  of  the  day  had  been 
determined. 

Napoleon  was  the  first  to  arrive  at  Paris,  and  to  con- 
vey thither  the  unwelcome  news  of  his  terrific  disaster. 
It  was  soon  ascertained  throughout  France  that  he  had 
staked  his  destiny  upon  the  issue  of  Waterloo ;  and  that 
he  had  lost.  At  four  o'clock  on  the  21st,  Napoleon  sadly 
entered  the  palace  of  the  Elyssee-Bourbons ;  and  his  first 
measure  was  to  propose  that  the  chambers  should  declare 
him  dictator,  as  the  only  means  of  saving  France  from 
impending  rum.  But  this  measure  was  strongly  opposed 
by  Fouche,  Lafayette,  Dupin,  and  the  leaders  of  the  popu- 
lar party  in  that  assemblage.  The  chambers  declared  its 
sittings  permanent.  The  prevalent  feeling  was  that,  in- 
stead of  proclaiming  Napoleon  dictator,  he  should  be  re- 
quested, and  even  required,  to  abdicate,  as  the  only  pos 


OPPOSITION  TO  HIM  IN  THE  ASSEMBLY.          329 

sible  means  of  preserving  the  country.  With  great  truth 
Lafayette  declared  in  the  assembly  that,  "  for  more  than 
ten  years  three  millions  of  Frenchmen  have  perished  for 
a  man  who  wishes  still  to  struggle  against  ah"  Europe. 
We  have  done  more  than  enough  for  him.  It  is  now 
our  duty  to  preserve  our  country ! "  In  truth  Napoleon 
had  for  many  years  been  the  real  curse  not  only  of  Eu- 
rope but  even  of  France.  It  is  true,  he  had  rendered  her 
name  illustrious  and  preeminent  in  the  annals  of  warfare. 
It  is  true,  he  had  conducted  her  triumphant  eagles  into 
almost  every  capital  in  Europe.  It  is  true,  he  had  filled 
the  French  capital  with  the  most  rare  and  precious  works 
of  art,  plundered  from  every  gallery  on  the  continent.  It 
is  true,  he  had  made  Paris  the  center  of  refinement,  luxu- 
ry, and  civilization.  But  these  were  all  hollow  and  worth- 
less advantages,  when  compared  with  the  infinite  evils 
which  he  had  inflicted  upon  his  country  in  return.  He 
had  exhausted  her  finances  in  supporting  his  vast  projects 
of  ambition.  Millions  of  her  bravest  and  best  children 
had  perished  on  the  battle-field  in  defense  of  his  cause ; 
and  their  bones  were  then  bleaching  in  almost  every  dis- 
tant clime,  in  the  parched  and  desert  sands  of  Africa,  on 
the  shady  banks  of  the  Tagus  and  the  Gaudalquiver, 
amid  the  mighty  abysmal  gorges  of  the  Alps,  and  on  the 
frozen  steppes  of  Russia.  He  had  kept  France  for  many 
years  in  a  continual  state  of  restlessness,  exhaustion,  and 
revolution,  totally  incompatible  with  all  real  and  perma- 
nent national  prosperity.  Nor  can  we  blame  the  leading 
statesmen  of  France  that,  after  the  battle  and  the  defeat 
of  Waterloo,  they  eagerly  embraced  the  opportunity 
given  them  to  humble  and  to  crush  the  insatiable  and  de- 


330  MOVEMENTS  OF  THE  ALLIES. 

struct!  ve  ambition  of  that  desperate  adventurer,  who  had 
been  the  messenger  of  ruin  to  so  many  millions  of  his  fel- 
low creatures ;  who  had  carried  desolation  and  misery  to 
so  many  nations ;  who  had  even  convulsed  a  whole  con 
tinent  by  the  prodigious  throes  of  the  most  grasping  and 
inordinate  ambition  which  ever  influenced  the  breast 
of  any  human  being. 

As  soon  as  the  wishes  of  the  chambers  were  communi- 
cated to  Napoleon,  he  became  extremely  enraged.  "  De- 
throne me !  "  said  he,  "  they  would  not  dare."  "  In  an 
hour,"  answered  Fouche,  "  on  the  motion  of  Lafayette, 
your  dethronement  will  be  irrevocably  pronounced." 
Napoleon  answered  with  a  bitter  smile :  "  Write  to  the 
chambers  to  keep  themselves  quiet ;  that  they  shall  be 
satisfied."  Fouche  wrote  immediately  to  the  deputies 
that  Napoleon  was  about  to  abdicate. 

Meanwhile  the  victorious  armies  of  the  allies  under 
Wellington  and  Blticher  were  rapidly  approaching  Paris. 
The  important  fortress  of  Cambroy  was  surprised  and 
taken  on  the  night  of  the  24th  of  June ;  as  was  also  that 
of  Peronne  on  the  26th.  By  the  29th  the  allied  armies 
reached  the  forest  of  Bondy  in  the  suburbs  of  Paris ;  and 
established  their  right  wing  at  Plessis,  their  left  at  St. 
Cloud,  and  their  reserve  at  Versailles.  Wellington  im- 
mediately opened  communications  with  the  commission- 
ers of  the  government  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  the 
capitulation  of  the  capital.  As  soon  as  Napoleon  discov- 
ered the  determination  of  the  chambers  to  proclaim  his 
dethronement,  and  being  apparently  sensible  of  the  hope- 
lessness of  his  situation,  he  retired  to  the  private  domain 


NAPOLEON  AT  MALMAISON.  331 

of  Malmaison,  the  favorite  retreat  and  the  property  of 
Josephine. 

This  movement  on  the  part  of  the  fallen  potentate 
seems  to  have  been  the  most  unwise  perpetrated  by  him 
during  his  whole  career.  It  was  a  cardinal  blunder  that 
he  did  not  remain  in  Paris ;  surround  himself  with  the 
fifty  thousand  veteran  troops  who  were  congregated  in 
the  capital ;  and  defend  it  to  the  last  extremity.  Not 
indeed  that  he  could  possibly  have  been  successful  in  that 
defense ;  but  a  desperate  show  of  resistance  at  that  criti- 
cal moment  would  undoubtedly  have  enabled  him  to  make 
much  better  terms  with  the  conquerors  than  he  was  ac- 
tually able  to  do.  He  would  have  probably  escaped  the 
ignominious  fate  which  befel  him  when  the  allies,  having 
determined  not  to  recognize  him  as  a  sovereign,  or  even 
as  a  representative  of  a  party  or  of  a  portion  of  the  French 
nation ;  and  having  resolved  that  he  should  not  on  any 
conditions  remain  in  Europe ;  they  already  treated  him 
as  an  outcast  and  a  wanderer,  without  the  least  consid- 
eration, influence,  or  power. 

After  spending  six  days  at  Malmaison,  Napoleon  col- 
lected an  immense  quantity  of  valuables  and  set  out  for 
Rochefort,  with  a  large  number  of  carriages  laden  ed  with 
his  treasures.  He  traveled  with  the  pomp  of  an  emperor, 
and  arrived  at  his  destination  on  the  third  of  July.  It 
was  his  determination  then  to  sail  for  America ;  but  the 
close  blockade  of  the  port  kept  by  the  English  cruisers, 
convinced  him  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  escape 
their  vigilance.  Then  it  was  that  in  an  evil  hour  for  him- 
self, but  in  an  hour  most  propitious  to  the  welfare  and 
peace  of  Europe  and  the  world,  he  concluded,  as  the  only 


332  RETURN  OF  LOUIS  XVIII.  TO  PARIS. 

resource  left  him,  to  throw  himself  on  the  hospitality  of 
the  British  nation,  as  "  the  most  powerful,  the  most  con- 
stant,  and  the  most  generous  of  his  enemies."  On  the 
14th  of  July  he  embarked  on  board  the  Bellerophon,  com- 
manded by  Captain  Haitian d ;  and  from  that  moment  he 
became  a  prisoner  of  war,  in  the  keeping  of  the  com- 
bined powers  of  Europe,  whom  his  great  talents  and  his 
restless  ambition  had  so  long  filled  with  terror,  appre- 
hension, and  despair. 

Thus  terminated  the  stirring  scenes  which  so  strangely 
animated  and  diversified  the  short  but  memorable  epoch 
of  thehundred  days.  On  the  7th  of  July,  1815,  the  allied 
armies  entered  Paris.  For  the  first  time  during  four  hun- 
dred years  an  English  drum  was  heard  reverberating 
within  the  walls  of  the  French  capital.  It  was  indeed  a 
joyful  hour  for  those  brave  and  war-beaten  veterans  who 
had,  after  so  many  prodigious  struggles  and  vicissitudes, 
at  length  crushed  the  common  enemy  and  oppressor  of 
all,  and  restored  a  lasting  peace  to  Europe.  On  the  8th 
of  July  Louis  XVIII.  again  returned  to  his  capital,  escorted 
by  the  National  Guards,  again  resumed  the  reins  of  gov- 
ernment, and  ascended  once  more  the  brilliant  throne 
of  his  ancestors. 

The  most  difficult  problem  which  then  engrossed  the 
attention  of  the  allied  sovereigns  and  generals  Avas  the 
proper  disposition  which  should  be  made  of  Napoleon. 
Their  former  misplaced  generosity  in  assigning  him  the 
sovereignty  of  Elba,  and  the  base  use  which  he  had  made 
of  that  generosity,  had  taught  them  a  valuable  lesson  of 
prudence.  They  were  now  unanimously  resolved  that 
Napoleon  should  be  removed  to  some  remote  and  lonely 


FINAL  DISPOSAL  OF  BONAPARTE.  333 

island  of  the  ocean,  and  there,  like  a  chained  eagle,  be 
compelled  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his  existence.  St. 
Helena  was  the  spot  immortalized  as  the  last  and  abhorred 
abode  of  this  memorable  hero.  He  first  set  foot  upon  its 
bleak  and  barren  recks  on  th-3  16th  of  October,  1815,  and 
to  the  obscure  and  cheerless  heights  of  Longwood  were 
his  remaining  days  consigned  who  had  filled  so  promi- 
nent a  place  in  the  world's  history.  There  the  mighty 
conqueror  of  a  hundred  battles  died  in  unwelcome 
obscurity  and  dependence ;  and  an  humble  and  lonely 
grave,  surrounded  by  the  ocean's  everlasting  and  mourn- 
ful lullaby,  received  the  remains  of  him  who  had  once 
played  with  scepters  and  diadems ;  who  had  made  and 
unmade  kings  at  his  pleasure ;  who  had  in  turn  de- 
throned the  hereditary  monarchs  of  Spain,  Naples,  Swe- 
den, and  Tuscany ;  who  had  placed  two  crowns  upon  the 
head  of  Joseph  Bonaparte ;  who  had  made  Louis  king  of 
Holland,  Jerome  sovereign  of  Westphalia,  Murat  king  of 
Naples,  Eliza  grand-duchess  of  Tuscany ;  who  had  laid 
low  in  the  very  dust  the  vigorous  monarchy  of  Frederic 
the  Great ;  who  had  spanned  the  Alps  with  the  magnifi- 
cent Simplon ;  who  had  won  in  marriage  the  haughty  de- 
scendant of  an  imperial  race ;  who  had  shaken  every 
throne  in  Europe  from  Edinburg  to  Constantinople ;  and 
who  was  conquered  and  chained  at  last,  only  by  the  com- 
bined energies  of  a  whole  continent  arrayed  against  him 
in  one  final,  implacable,  and  mortal  conflict. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

EXILE   OF   NAPOLEON   AT   ST.    HELENA. 

As  the  origin  of  Napoleon's  career,  its  progress,  and  its 
culmination  of  glory,  were  without  a  parallel  in  human 
history;  so  also  was  its  melancholy  termination.  Na- 
poleon at  St.  Helena  presents  an  unequaled  spectacle ; 
for  what  can  be  a  sublimer  sight  than  that  proud  imperial 
eagle,  after  having  soared  in  triumph  over  the  length  and 
breadth  of  a  vast  continent,  having  been  at  length  van- 
quished and  captured  by  combined  millions  in  arms,  at 
last  being  bound,  like  another  Prometheus,  with  chains 
stronger  than  iron,  to  the  lonely  and  frowning  rock  of 
St.  Helena,  to  be  preyed  upon  by  the  vultures  of  undy- 
ing mortification  and  regret ! 

It  was  on  the  16th  of  October,  1815,  that  Napoleon 
first  beheld,  from  on  board  the  "  Northumberland  "  man- 
of-war,  the  bleak  heights  which  were  destined  to  be  his 
final  and  detested  home,  towering  in  gloomy  solitude  above 
the  waves. 

St.  Helena  is  distant  six  thousand  miles  from  the  coast 
of  France.  It  rises  in  lonely  and  repulsive  grandeur  in 
the  midst  of  the  Atlantic  ocean ;  and  its  highest  peak  is 
elevated  three  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 
It  is  a  volcanic  formation,  having  an  uneven  and  rocky 
surface,  and  in  no  portion  of  it  can  sufficient  fertility  be 
found  to  serve  the  rudest  and  simplest  purposes  of  hus- 


APPEARANCE  OF  ST.  HELENA.  335 

bandry.  It  is  twenty-one  miles  in  circumference.  The 
prospect  on  every  side  is  cheerless  in  the  extreme — a 
waste  of  rude,  bleak,  and  shapeless  crags  on  the  one  hand, 
and  on  the  other,  an  horizon  bounded  as  far  as  the  eye 
can  reach  only  by  the  vast  unchanging  surface  of  the 
ocean.  At  the  period  of  Napoleon's  arrival,  its  inhabi- 
tants were  five  hundred  in  number,  including  also  a  gar- 
rison of  one  hundred  and  fifty  men.  The  climate  is  un- 
healthy, being  subject  from  its  exposed  position  to  vio- 
lent and  excessive  changes  of  temperature.  Occasionally, 
tropical  storms  sweep  over  the  rude  surface  of  the  island 
with  sudden  and  terrific  violence,  destroying  the  few 
shelters  which  the  hand  of  man  may  have  erected  to  deco- 
rate the  waste.  James  Town,  its  capital,  situated  at  the 
base  of  its  towering  ridges,  was  a  village  of  no  preten- 
sion, chiefly  inhabited  by  the  various  employees  of  the 
British  government. 

Such  was  the  spot  selected  by  his  triumphant  foes,  aa 
the  last  residence  of  the  once  mighty  Corsican.  After 
spending  some  time  at  the  Briars,  a  pleasant  cottage  near 
James  Town,  inhabited  by  an  English  family  named  Bal- 
come,  his  removal  was  ordered  to  Longwood  on  the  11  tit 
of  December,  1815,  and  then  the  real  importance  and  in- 
terest of  Napoleon's  exile  in  St.  Helena  commenced. 

The  suite  of  Napoleon  who  accompanied  him  in  his 
exile,  was  composed  of  the  following  persons :  Count  Las 
Cases,  as  his  private  secretary;  a  person  who  twenty-four 
years  before,  had  emigrated  in  the  suite  of  the  family  of 
the  murdered  Louis  XVI.  disguised  as  a  jockey.  Count 
Montholon,  Count  Bertrand,  General  Gourgaud  and  Mar- 
chand,  his  valet  de  chambre — these  long  tried  friends  of  Ha 


336  SITUATION  OF  LONGWOOD. 

poleon  and  their  families  alone  were  allowed  or  were  will- 
ing to  share  the  solitude  of  their  illustrious  benefactor. 

When  Napoleon  was  about  to  pass  from  the  Bellero- 
phon,  on  board  the  Northumberland,  Admiral  Keith  ap- 
proached him  with  a  profound  bow,  and  said  with  sub- 
dued emotion  holding  out  his  hand :  "  England  demands 
your  sword  as  a  prisoner  of  war !  "  Napoleon  was  quite 
taken  by  surprise  at  this  demand ;  but  instantly  recover- 
ing himself,  he  placed  his  hand  convulsively  on  his  sword 
— the  sword  he  had  worn  at  Austerlitz — and  a  terrible 
and  defiant  glance  of  his  eye  was  his  only  answer.  The 
aged  admiral  was  astounded.  His  tall  head,  white  with 
the  frost  of  years,  sunk  down,  overawed  by  the  fierce  ex- 
pression of  the  captive ;  and  the  latter  retained  his  sword. 

Longwood  was  a  small  collection  of  inferior  buildings, 
situated  on  a  bleak  and  exposed  plateau,  eighteen  hun- 
dreed  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  near  the  center 
of  the  island.  This  place  was  covered  with  gum  trees, 
which  exhibited  only  a  stunted  growth,  and  afforded 
neither  shade  nor  beauty  to  the  landscape.  The  main 
building  was  a  structure  of  stone,  some  seventy  feet  in 
length,  and  thirty  feet  wide,  with  several  additional  build- 
ings of  much  less  extent.  These  were  all  constructed  in 
the  simplest  manner  without  the  least  pretensions  to 
architectural  beauty,  and  without  any  of  the  appliances  of 
luxury,  or  even  of  comfort.  To  this  spot  was  conducted, 
as  to  his  last  and  only  home  on  earth,  that  great  potentate 
who  had  but  recently  revelled  in  the  most  luxuriant  pala- 
ces of  Europe,  and  had  called  the  matchless  magnificence 
of  Versailles  and  St.  Cloud  his  own.  A  close  line  of 
sentries  had  been  drawn  around  the  plateau  of  Longwood 


NAPOLEON'S  PROTEST.  337 

by  the  English  governor  from  the  day  of  the  emperor's 
arrival  there ;  and  through  these,  neither  the  emperor 
nor  any  of  his  suite  could  ever  pass,  except  by  the  special 
permission  of  the  then  commandant  of  the  island.  To 
these,  and  other  indignities,  the  fallen  conqueror  submit- 
ted in  silence.  He  indeed  considered  himself  deeply  out- 
raged by  the  British  government  who  had  placed  him  in 
that  vile  durance.  Shortly  after  his  arrival  at  St.  Helena, 
he  addressed  a  note  to  the  British  cabinet,  in  which  he 
protested  that  he  was  not  a  prisoner  of  war ;  that  he  had 
voluntarily  placed  himself  under  the  protection  of  Eng- 
land, before  going  on  board  the  Bellerophon ;  that  he 
could  have  placed  himself  under  the  protection  of  the 
Emperor  Francis ;  but  that  he  had  reposed  full  confidence 
in  the  honor  and  hospitality  of  the  British  government ; 
that  he  had  been  deceived ;  and  that  now  odious  restric- 
tions were  imposed  upon  him,  which  curtailed  his  liberty, 
and  were  derogatory  to  his  dignity.  But  these  grievan- 
ces were  but  trifles  compared  with  those  which  he  was 
compelled  to  endure  after  the  arrival  of  Sir  Hudson 
Lowe,  as  governor  of  the  island,  on  the  14th  of  April, 
1816.  Then  Napoleon  began  to  feel  the  real  ignominy 
and  degradation  of  his  condition. 

As  this  man  of  mighty  will  and  insatiable  ambition  re- 
flected, amid  the  solitude  of  his  ocean  home,  on  his  past 
prodigious  career,  how  singular  must  have  been  his  emo- 
tions !  At  that  very  moment  a  distant  continent  still 
shook  with  the  recent  shock  of  his  legions,  on  the  ensan- 
guined plain  of  Waterloo.  All  the  statesmen  and  sover- 
eigns of  that  continent  still  exerted  themselves  with  un- 
ceasing industry,  to  forge  yet  stronger  the  chains  which 
O  22 


338       APPREHENSIO1S73  OF  EUROPE'S  MONARCHS. 

bound  this  formidable  giant  to  his  prison.  All  the  in- 
habitants  of  that  continent,  from  ocean  to  ocean,  stil) 
trembled  lest  he  should  once  more  break  loose  with  in- 
vincible power  from  that  distant  prison ;  return  again  to 
the  capital  of  his  lost  empire  ;  wrest  his  scepter  from  the 
hands  of  those  who  had  just  usurped  it;  and  calling 
around  him,  as  by  the  omnipotent  wand  of  a  magician,  a 
hundred  thousand  armed  followers,  again  resume  his  ca- 
reer of  conquest ;  again  overturn  thrones  and  dynasties ; 
and  once  more  assume  that  irresistible  supremacy  over 
half  a  continent,  of  which  he  had  so  recently,  and  by  the 
merest  accident  been  deprived. 

And  while  all  Europe  thus  trembled  with  apprehension 
and  whispered  with  pale  lips  the  possibility  of  the  fulfill- 
ment of  their  fears,  behold  the  exile  himself  in  his  distant 
prison.  Surrounded  by  half  a  score  of  his  most  attached 
friends,  some  of  whom  had  been  near  him  when  first  hia 
rising  star  began  to  ascend  from  obscurity,  who  had  ac- 
companied him  ever  since,  during  all  the  wonderful  vicis- 
situdes of  his  career — he  had  ample  leisure  to  reflect  on 
the  mighty  revulsions  of  fortune  and  of  fate  which  had 
overtaken  him.  Did  he  commiserate  the  millions  of  men, 
whose  bones  then  were  crumbling  beneath  the  earth  on  a 
hundred  battle-fields,  who  had  been  led  on  to  conflict  and 
to  death  by  his  own  insatiable  ambition  ?  Did  he  then 
think  of  the  millions  of  orphans  and  widows  who  at  that 
moment  from  Edinburgh  to  Cairo,  from  Madrid  to  Mos- 
cow, were  shedding  bitter  tears  over  the  loss  of  beloved 
husbands,  brothers,  and  friends?  Did  his  imagination 
picture  before  him  the  countless  hosts  of  ruined  and 
wounded  wretches,  who,  at  that  very  moment  were 


NAPOLEON'S  FEELINGS  IN  EXILE.  339 

crawling  over  the  earth,  almost  from  the  rising  to  the  set- 
ting sun,  victims  of  the  horrors  of  war  which  his  own 
boundless  ambition  had  inflicted ;  and  who  cursed  him  as 
the  sole  cause  of  their  misfortunes  ? 

We  doubt,  indeed,  whether  he  felt  one  single  com- 
punctious emotion.  His  memoirs  do  not  give  indication 
of  a  solitary  circumstance  which  would  seem  to  prove 
that  he  experienced  any  sensation  whatever,  as  the  long 
and  cheerless  years  rolled  by,  except  regret  at  the  dis- 
comfiture of  his  prodigious  ambition ;  hatred  and  malig- 
nity against  his  cautious  and  jealous  jailors ;  curses  against 
the  mutability  of  fortune ;  and  defiance  of  his  future  fate, 
whatever  the  mysterious  events  of  the  time  to  come  might 
develope  before  him.  Napoleon  Bonaparte  such  as  he 
was  through  his  life,  amid  all  its  amazing  scenes  of  triumph 
and  glory,  of  disaster  and  of  wo,  the  same  he  remained  until 
he  breathed  his  last  sigh  of  agony  at  Longwood,  un- 
changed and  unchangeable.  And  the  various  mortifica- 
tions, indignities,  and  insults — the  deep  despondency  and 
despair — which  he  was  compelled  to  endure  during  his 
captivity,  the  loss  of  all  domestic  ties  and  sympathies,  the 
exulting  joy  of  his  triumphant  and  implacable  foes,  and 
the  slow  but  conscious  approach  of  a  painful  and  prema- 
ture death — all  these  things  were  inflictions  which  taught 
his  proud  spirit  to  appreciate  something  of  the  misery 
which  he  had  inflicted  on  millions  of  his  race ;  and  ena- 
bled him,  unwillingly,  to  estimate  and  feel  the  enormity 
of  his  own  career,  as  the  cause  of  infinite  suffering  on  the 
earth. 

Sir  Hudson  Lowe  seemed  to  have  been  chosen  by  the 
British  government,  as  the  jailor  of  Napoleon,  because 


340  MEASURES  OF  SIR  HUDSON  LOWE. 

he  was  known  to  possess  qualities  which  would  render  hia 
authority  galling  to  his  captive  to  the  last  degree.  Nor 
were  their  expectations  disappointed.  As  soon  as  the 
new  governor  arrived  on  the  island,  he  made  different 
and  much  stricter  regulations.  The  trade's-people  were 
forbidden  to  sell  the  emperor's  party  anything,  or  to  hold 
any  communication  with  them  whatever.  All  the  paths 
and  roads  leading  up  to  the  heights  of  Longwood  were 
continually  guarded  by  patrols  of  soldiers.  And  when 
visitors  who  possessed  passports  from  the  governor  visi- 
ted the  captive,  the  guards  were  to  report  at  what  time 
the  visits  were  made,  and  how  long  they  continued.  Spies 
were  continually  lurking  around  the  retreat  of  the  em- 
peror, who  reported  to  Sir  Hudson  from  day  to  day, 
everything  even  to  the  minutest  event  which  occurred 
within  the  reach  of  their  scrutiny.  The  expenses  of  Na- 
poleon's household  were  made  the  subject  of  interference 
and  dispute.  The  quantity  and  quality  of  his  food  and 
wines  were  inquired  into  and  objected  against.  To  these 
and  various  other  annoyances,  the  fallen  despot  made  but 
one  reply  to  his  persecutor :  "  You  have  full  power  over 
my  body ;  but  my  mind  is,  and  will  remain,  beyond  your 
*  reach.  It  is  as  proud  and  full  of  courage  on  this  rock  as 
when  I  commanded  Europe !  "  We  cannot  but  admire 
the  energy  and  indomitable  firmness  of  an  intellect  which 
remained  unyielding  and  uncrushed  by  such  great  disas- 
ters, and  by  such  a  downfall  from  so  immense  an  elevation. 
In  October,  1816,  so  great  had  become  the  terror  which 
agitated  the  minds  of  the  cabinets  of  Europe,  lest  their 
colossal  captive  might  still  escape  them,  that  they  imposed 
new  and  more  stringent  restrictions  upon  him.  The  ar- 


THE  TREATY  OF  1815.  341 

tides  of  the  treaty  into  which  England,  Austria,  Prussia, 
and  Russia  had  entered,  in  reference  to  Napoleon,  on  the 
2d  of  August,  1815,  contained  the  folio  whig  provisions  : 

1.  Napoleon  Bonaparte  is  regarded  by  these  powers, 
as  their  prisoner  of  war. 

2.  His  safe-keeping  is  entrusted  to  the  British  govern- 
ment.    The  choice  of  his  abode  and  the  means  necessary 
to  secure  his  safe  retention  are  reserved  to  his  Britannic 
majesty. 

3.  The  courts  of  Austria,  Russia,  and  Prussia  shall  ap- 
point commissioners  to  reside  at  the  place  of  Napoleon's 
abode,  who  shall  constantly  assure  themselves  of  his  pres- 
ence there. 

4.  The  king  of  England  binds  himself  to  fulfill  this  ar- 
rangement with  reference  to  the  future  secure  confine- 
ment of  Napoleon  Bonaparte. 

It  would  seem  as  if  with  the  progress  of  time  the  allied 
powers  became  more  and  more  fearful  of  the  escape  of 
their  captive.  Accordingly  in  1816,  instructions  were 
sent  to  Sir  Hudson  Lowe,  that  the  order  should  be  made 
known,  "that  henceforth  General  Bonaparte  is  required 
to  abstain  from  entering  any  house,  and  from  holding  any 
conversation  with  the  persons  whom  he  may  meet,  unless 
in  the  presence  of  an  English  officer."  The  former  allow- 
ance made  by  the  British -government  for  the  support  of 
the  captive's  establishment  was  now  also  diminished ;  and 
Napoleon  was  compelled  to  permit  the  sale  of  his  plate,  in 
order  to  make  up  the  consequent  deficiency.  This  was  not 
because  he  did  not  possess  any  money  for  that  purpose ; 
but  because  he  wished,  by  this  act,  to  proclaim  to  the 
world  that  he  had  been  compelled  to  appropriate  some 


342  NAPOLEON'S  HATRED  OF  HIS  JAILOR. 

of  his  private  means  to  the  maintenance  of  one,  whom 
the  allied  sovereigns  had  themselves  proclaimed  to  be 
their  prisoner  of  war,  and  whom,  according  to  the  usages 
of  civilized  nations,  they  were  bound  adequately  to  sup- 
port. During  the  interviews  between  Napoleon  and  Sir 
Hudson  Lowe,  the  former  had  uttered  sentiments  of  the 
bitterest  contempt  and  hostility  toward  his  jailor.  Said 
he,  "  You  never  let  a  day  pass  without  your  torturing 
me  by  your  insults.  Where  have  you  ever  commanded 
anything  but  bandits  and  deserters  ?  I  know  the  names 
of  all  the  English  generals  of  distinction ;  but  I  never 
heard  of  you."  Language  such  as  this,  naturally  filled  the 
narrow  mind  of  Sir  Hudson  Lowe  with  the  most  implaca- 
ble resentment  against  his  captive;  and  the  various 
means  adopted  by  him  to  display  his  enmity,  reminds  us 
of  the  fable  of  the  prostrate  and  dying  lion  assaulted  by 
the  audacious  jackass. 

Napoleon  at  this  period  either  was  or  pretended  to  be 
poor,  and  he  sent  letters  to  the  members  of  his  family  in 
Europe,  stating  that  he  was  hi  want  of  the  most  necessary 
comforts.  They  hastened  to  offer  him  the  whole,  or  a 
large  share  of,  their  fortunes.  King  Joseph  placed  ten 
millions  of  francs  subject  to  his  order.  Queen  Hortense, 
the  beautiful  Pauline,  and  the  avaricious  mother  of  the 
ex-emperor,  each  offered  him  the  whole  of  their  fortunes ; 
while  Eliza  wrote  to  him  that  she  possessed  but  twenty 
thousand  francs  in  the  world,  and  the  half  of  these  were 
his.  It  was  chiefly  of  the  liberal  offer  of  his  brother  Jo- 
seph that  Napoleon  subsequently  made  use. 

The  mortifications  of  the  emperor's  condition  still  con- 
tinued to  increase.  In  October  orders  were  receive'l  that, 


Sill  HUDSON  LOWE.  343 

his  personal  suite  should  be  diminished  by  the  withdrawal 
of  four  persons.  Soon  afterward  his  private  secretary, 
Las  Cases,  was  arrested ;  his  papers  sealed  up  and  re- 
moved ;  and  he  himself  eventually  compelled  to  leave  St. 
Helena,  and  return  to  Europe.  Sir  Hudson  occasionally 
took  sudden  fits  of  apprehension  lest  his  prisoner  had  es- 
caped ;  and  then  he  would  rush  up  to  Longwood,  and 
force  himself  into  the  presence  of  the  captive  in  defiance 
of  all  etiquette  or  even  decorum.  On  one  of  these  occa- 
sions Napoleon  became  incensed  beyond  endurance.  Be- 
ing informed  by  his  attendant  that  Sir  Hudson  was  about 
to  enter  his  apartment  thus  unannounced,  he  said :  "  Tell 
my  jailor  that  he  may  exchange  his  keys  for  the  hatchet 
of  the  executioner,  but  that  he  shall  not  enter  my  apart- 
ment except  over  my  corpse.  Give  me  my  pistols ! "  Sir 
Hudson  overheard  this  threat ;  and  being  satisfied  that 
Napoleon  had  not  escaped,  he  retired.  The  captive  and 
the  jailor  never  met  again.  But  the  latter  gave  orders 
to  all  the  sentries  that  if  General  Bonaparte  himself  ever 
attempted  to  approach  any  of  them,  he  should  immediately 
be  arrested  and  confined  in  the  guard-house.  An  im- 
mense iron  grating  was  at  last  sent  for  to  England,  which 
was  placed  around  the  circumference  of  the  plateau  of 
Longwood,  several  miles  in  extent.  This  grating  firmly 
planted  in  the  ground  was  so  high,  that  it  was  impossible 
to  scale  it,  and  was  guarded  by  one  hundred  and  thirty 
sentinels  both  by  day  and  night.  Such  were  some  of  the 
precautions  adopted  by  the  British  government  to  secure 
the  detention  of  the  most  dangerous,  as  he  was  the  most 
able  man,  in  the  world.  Napoleon,  as  the  crowning  act 
of  indignity  heaped  upon  him,  saw  from  his  window  at 


344  THE  MODERN  MECCA. 

Longwood,  the  erection  of  this  high  railing  around  the 
outskirts  of  his  abode ;  he  beheld  in  it  another  and  clearer 
proof  of  the  excessive  vigilance  with  which  his  person  and 
his  captivity  were  watched.  And  he  perceived  in  these 
various  annoyances  and  precautions  clearer  evidence  that 
the  possibility  of  his  escape  was  daily  diminishing,  and 
that  he  was  at  last  destined  never  more  to  behold  the 
gunny  plains  of  his  beloved  France,  but  to  end  his  cheer- 
less exile,  only  by  his  death. 

It  will  readily  be  supposed  that  Napoleon's  residence 
at  St.  Helena,  rendered  that  barren  rock  the  most  inter- 
esting and  observed  locality  of  the  whole  earth ;  and  that 
pilgrims  from  every  clime  visited  it,  to  gaze  upon  the  fal- 
len conqueror  in  his  low  and  humbled  estate.  Such  in- 
deed was  the  fact.  The  bleak  heights  of  St.  Helena  be- 
came another  Mecca,  toward  which  the  feet  of  the  curi- 
ous, the  distinguished,  and  the  fair  from  almost  every 
clime,  were  continually  tending.  These  offered  at  the 
crumbling  shrine  of  the  fallen  deity,  the  tributes  of  their 
admiration  and  reverence ;  and  some  made  propositions  to 
him  for  the  purpose  of  procuring  his  release,  which  indi- 
cated that  there  were  hearts  which  still  beat  with  undy- 
ing devotion  to  his  cause,  and  were  animated  with  the 
belief  that  he  would  yet  regain  his  lost  empire,  and 
triumph  over  every  foe. 

One  of  these  propositions  came  from  the  captain  of  an 
English  merchant  vessel  returning  from  the  East  Indies ; 
who  assured  him  that  the  whole  English  nation  were  out- 
raged at  the  course  pursued  toward  him  by  their  own 
cabinet.  Another  offer  came  to  him  from  one  of  the  offi- 
cers of  the  garrison  at  St.  Helena ;  who  proposed  that  Na- 


PROPOSALS  OF  ESCAPE.  345 

poleon  should  reach  a  certain  point  of  the  island  on  the 
shore,  which  was  but  an  hour's  walk  from  Longwood ; 
was  very  remote,  obscure,  and  guarded  only  by  a  post 
of  infantry ;  and  that  thence  row  boats  would  convey  him 
in  a  few  minutes  to  a  vessel  which  rode  at  anchor  near  the 
spot.  A  still  different  offer  was  made  to  Napoleon  to  effect 
his  release  by  means  of  submarine  vessels,  which  were  to 
approach  a  point  of  the  coast  which  the  captive  could 
easily  reach,  and  then  hiding  himself  in  a  ravine  from  six 
o'clock  in  the  evening  until  the  time  of  departure  during 
the  night.  Five  thousand  louis  were  expended  by  a 
friend  of  Dr.  O'Meara,  in  making  experiments  in  reference 
to  the  practicability  of  this  plan. 

For  some  reason  or  other,  Napoleon  refused  to  accept 
any  of  these  successive  propositions.  He  said  to  Mon- 
tholon :  "  I  should  not  be  six  months  in  America  without 
being  assassinated  by  the  Count  d'Artois'  creatures.  He 
sent  the  Ghouan  Brulard  to  kill  me  at  Elba.  I  see  in 
America  nothing  but  assassination  or  oblivion.  I  pre- 
fer St.  Helena  to  these.  My  martyrdom  here  will  restore 
the  crown  of  France  to  my  dynasty  !  "  Prophetic  words 
which  the  progress  of  time  has  so  truly  and  so  wonderfully 
confirmed ! 

It  may  well  be  imagined  that  the  monotonous  life  of 
the  ex-emperor  was  sufficiently  dreary.  His  only  or  chief 
solace  was  the  exercise  of  dictating  his  memoirs  to  some 
member  of  his  suite.  All  access  to  his  residence  was 
strictly  forbidden,  from  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  till  six 
in  the  morning.  This  rule  enforced  a  degree  of  solitude 
upon  him  which  was  in  the  highest  degree  irksome.  His 
annoyances  continued  to  increase;  and  in  1818  the  em- 
O* 


346  NAPOLEON'S  SICKNESS. 

peror's  physician  Dr.  O'Meara,  received  orders  not  to  quit 
the  enclosed  grounds  of  Longwood;  three  months  af- 
terward, he  was  forcibly  removed  from  all  intercourse 
with  Napoleon,  and  soon  was  compelled  to  leave  the  isl- 
and altogether.  During  the  same  year,  General  Gour- 
gaud,  one  of  his  personal  suite  was  induced  to  return  to 
France,  on  account  of  his  own  sickness. 

The  year  1819  found  the  exile  still  declining  in  health. 
£n  January  of  this  year,  he  could  not  quit  his  bed-room. 
On  the  16th  and  17th  he  became  much  worse.  He  was  at 
this  time  without  the  advice  of  any  medical  attendant,  and 
he  was  compelled  to  request  the  services  of  a  physician  who 
happened  then  to  be  on  board  the  "  Conqueror,"  in  the 
harbor  of  St.  Helena.  During  the  year  1820,  the  fatal 
disease  which  was  secretly  gnawing  at  his  vitals — cancer 
in  the  stomach — made  rapid  progress.  The  illustrious 
patient  was  becoming  much  attenuated.  His  once  ro- 
tund figure  was  rapidly  shrinking  to  that  of  a  skeleton. 
He  could  no  longer  take  his  customary  rides  around  the 
limited  domain  allowed  him.  His  nights  were  sleepless, 
and  he  received  many  clear  prognostics  of  the  mournful 
fact  that  his  dissolution  was  not  very  far  distant. 

The  exile  of  Napoleon  at  St.  Helena,  is  not  so  remarka- 
ble from  the  fact  that  he  ever  lived  there,  as  because  he 
died  there.  His  life  in  that  remote  and  obscure  quarter 
of  the  globe  was  not  particularly  worthy  of  note.  It  was 
common-place.  He  could  not  display  in  that  humble  and 
circumscribed  sphere  any  of  the  mighty  qualities  which 
have  rendered  him  the  most  wonderful  of  men.  He  would 
have  acted  very  differently  had  he  spent  those  years  upon 
the  brilliant  throne  of  France.  But  Napoleon  died  at  St. 


NAPOLEON'S  WILL.  347 

Helena,  precisely  as  he  would  have  expired  had  he  closed 
his  career  within  the  gilded  chambers  of  St.  Cloud.  How 
that  imperial  spirit  would  confront  the  great  King  of 
Terrors  anywhere,  is  an  inquiry  of  intense  interest ;  and 
the  incidents  which  attended  that  last  fearful  struggle 
were  in  substance  the  same,  whether  the  conflict  occurred 
on  the  pinnacle  of  his  glory  in  France,  or  amid  the  glooms 
of  obscurity  at  St.  Helena. 

The  first  symptoms  of  his  approaching  dissolution  were 
his  vomiting  of  black  matter,  proving  the  presence  of 
ulceration  in  the  stomach,  accompanied  by  an  intense  pain 
in  his  left  side.  Napoleon  was  attended  during  his  last 
illness  by  Dr.  Arnott,  an  English  physician  of  whose 
abilities  he  had  received  favorable  statements.  On  the 
21st  of  April,  1821,  being  himself  convinced  of  the  near- 
ness of  his  dissolution,  he  prepared  his  will  with  his  own 
hand,  and  duly  sealed  and  executed  it.  He  began  it  by 
the  declaration  that  "  he  died  in  the  Apostolical  Roman 
religion,  in  the  bosom  of  which  he  had  been  born ! "  He 
also  desired  that  his  ashes  might  repose  on  the  banks  of 
the  Seine,  among  the  French  people  whom  he  had  loved 
so  well.  He  added  that  he  died  prematurely,  because  he 
was  assassinated  by  the  English  cabinet  and  their  deputy. 

He  then  made  various  bequests  to  his  relatives  and  most 
attached  followers,  amounting  to  more  than  a  mil  linn  of 
dollars.  The  English  government  had  not  confiscated  his 
private  property ;  but  had  allowed  him  the  full  and  free 
disposal  of  it.  Napoleon's  plea  of  poverty,  therefore, 
made  publicly  during  his  captivity  at  St.  Helena,  was 
without  foundation,  and  was  used  merely  for  the  purpose 
of  political  effect.  His  will  contained  thirty-seven  differ- 


548  HE  PREPARES  FOR  DEATH. 

ent  legacies ;  among  which  were  many  of  a  hundred  thou- 
sand francs  each  to  his  most  attached  officers  and  soldiers, 
who  had  remained  in  France.  He  made  touching  allu- 
sions hi  his  will  to  his  absent  wife,  Maria  Louisa,  and  to 
his  son,  the  ill-fated  king  of  Rome.  He  also  spoke  in 
terms  of  affection  respecting  his  mother,  his  brothers,  sis- 
ters, and  the  two  adopted  children  of  his  once  loved 
Josephine — Hortense  and  Eugene.  He  forgave  his  ene- 
mies ;  and  desired  to  leave  that  world  in  peace,  which  he 
had  so  long  agitated  and  desolated  by  his  insatiable 
ambition. 

He  then  prepared  himself  to  die.  Not  indeed  as  or- 
dinary mortals  would  prepare  to  leave  the  world ;  but  by 
composing  his  mind  to  a  consciousness  of  the  dignity  of 
the  occasion ;  and  by  so  demeaning  himself  in  this  last 
and  solemn  act  of  the  memorable  drama  of  his  life,  that  it 
might  be  said,  that  the  great  Napoleon  was  not  unworthy 
of  himself — his  genius  and  his  fame — even  in  the  hour 
which  most  fearfully  tries  men's  souls. 

On  the  morning  of  the  26th  of  April,  1821,  the  emperor 
called  Montholon  to  his  bedside  and  said  to  him :  "  I  have 
just  seen  my  good  Josephine,  but  she  would  not  embrace 
me.  She  disappeared  at  the  moment  I  was  about  to  take 
her  in  my  arms.  She  told  me  we  were  about  to  see  each 
other  again,  never  more  to  part.  Did  you  see  her  ?  " 
Was  this  a  delusion  of  that  mighty  brain,  or  was  it  another 
proof,  that  denizens  of  the  spirit-land  may,  and  sometimes 
do,  revisit  the  "glimpses  of  the  moon,"  and  hold  inter- 
course with  those  they  have  left  behind  them  ? 

During  the  night  of  the  29th  of  April,  the  dying  em- 
peror suffered  intense  agony ;  and  perspired  so  profusely 


HE  RECEIVES  EXTREME  UNCTION.  349 

that  his  linen  was  changed  seven  times.  His  person  had 
become  emaciated  to  the  last  degree ;  but  his  indomita- 
ble mind  retained  its  undiminished  energy  and  power. 
At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  dictated  to  Montholon 
two  elaborate  projects,  which  seem,  under  the  circumstan- 
ces of  the  case,  to  be  the  most  remarkable  things  recorded 
in  history.  The  dying  man,  already  struggling  within 
the  jaws  of  death,  dictated  one  paper  on  the  "  future  des- 
tination of  Versailles,"  and  the  other  on  "the  reorgani- 
zation of  the  National  Guard  of  France."  Five  days  be- 
fore he  expired,  this  wonderful  person  still  interested  him- 
self deeply  in  the  internal  government  and  architectural 
improvement  of  a  country  six  thousand  miles  distant  from 
his  bedside — a  country  which  he  could  never  by  any  pos- 
sibility, again  behold ! 

Conscious  of  his  approaching  end,  Napoleon  during  the 
night  of  the  1st  of  May,  sent  for  the  Abbe  Vignali,  his 
almoner,  to  administer  to  him  the  last  succors  of  religion. 
It  is  certainly  an  incident  which  serves  to  show  the  in- 
herent and  divine  power  of  truth,  that  the  greatest  intel- 
lect which  the  world  has  ever  seen,  did  not  discard  the 
aid  which  Christianity  is  intended  to  aiford,  in  his  last  mo- 
ments. It  is  worthy  of  note  that  he,  who  all  his  life,  had 
either  been  an  infidel,  a  Mahomedan,  or  a  sensualist  in  the 
fullest  sense  of  the  term,  should,  when  in  extremis,  aban- 
don all  other  supports,  and  rely  solely  on  the  aid  af- 
forded by  religion.  He  who  had  suppressed  the  inquisi- 
tion; who  had  imprisoned  the  Pope;  who  had,  more 
than  any  other  man,  broken  down  the  power  of  priestly 
arrogance  and  authority  throughout  the  world  ;  was  will- 
ing, when  the  solemn  realities  of  an  unknown  world  were 


350  HE  BECOMES   DELIRIOUS. 

beginning  to  close  around  him,  to  implore  the  help  of  a 
principle  and  an  institution,  which  he  had  so  fiercely  op- 
posed. And  yet  it  illustrates  at  the  same  time,  the  in- 
herent weakness  even  of  the  mightiest,  that  Napoleon  de- 
sired the  utmost  secresy  to  be  observed  in  reference  to 
his  acceptance  of  these  last  rites ;  lest  forsooth,  his  conduct 
might  excite  the  derision  of  the  gay  and  satirical  Parisians! 

On  the  2d  of  May,  the  expiring  emperor  again  dictated 
to  his  private  secretary  two  hours  in  succession  During 
the  night  of  the  3d  of  May,  at  two  o'clock,  he  sat  up  with 
a  convulsive  movement ;  and  at  length  tried  to  arise  from 
his  bed.  He  was  enduring  the  most  intense  agony.  The 
deadly  cancer  in  his  stomach  was  gnawing  at  his  vitals, 
having  by  a  slow  yet  inevitable  process,  approached  a 
vital  part.  "I  am  burning,"  said  he,  "as  if  my  stomach 
was  full  of  coals  of  fire."  During  the  succeeding  day,  for 
the  first  time  in  the  history  of  that  mighty  intellect,  it 
wandered ;  and  reason  for  a  short  time  deserted  her  ac- 
customed throne  and  became  enshrouded  in  darkness. 

At  length  the  5th  of  May  dawned — the  day  on  which 
the  greatest  hero  of  modern  tunes  was  destined  to  leave 
the  world.  Toward  two  o'clock  he  became  delirious. 
Amid  the  wild  wanderings  of  that  giant  mind,  an  oc- 
casional phrase  escaped  him,  which  clearly  indicated  on 
what  favorite  themes  his  last  thoughts  dwelt : — France^ 
armee — tete  cfrarmee — Josephine.  Then,  at  length,  as  the 
fatal  disease  grasped  deeper  hold  of  his  vitals,  and  the 
last  pang  of  agony  pierced  his  frame,  he  sprang  with  a  con- 
vulsive movement  from  his  bed ;  and  though  his  faithful 
attendant,  Martholon,  attempted  to  resist  his  rising,  so 
great  was  the  spasmodic  strength  inspired  by  that  awful 


DEATH  OF  NAPOLEON.  351 

torture,  that  the  attendant  was  thrown  down  upon  the  car- 
pet and  Napoleon  fell  with  him.  By  the  assistance  of 
Archambaud,  he  was  soon  replaced  in  his  bed ;  and  be- 
came again  tranquil.  His  pangs  of  pain  and  suffering 
were  intense,  and  yet  he  bore  them  with  silent  and  heroic 
fortitude.  At  length,  an  ominous  rattling  in  the  throat 
gave  the  presage  of  immediate  dissolution,  and  the  last 
moment  had  arrived.  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon.  A 
terrific  storm  had  arisen,  and  the  heavens  were  darkened 
with  heavy  and  drifting  clouds.  The  ocean  had  suddenly 
changed  its  eternal  mellow  lullaby  to  hoarser  and  louder 
tones  of  wrath ;  and  lashed  the  rock-bound  coast  with 
appalling  fury.  The  tempest  raged  over  the  rude  surface 
of  the  island ;  and  blackness  and  darkness  seemed  to  por- 
tend some  great  calamity  to  nature.  The  rude  dwelling 
of  the  dying  hero  shook  to  its  foundations  with  the 
fury  of  the  storm.  But  he  heeded  it  not.  Within  that 
silent  chamber  his  mighty  spirit  was  dealing  then  with 
that  dread  conqueror  who  is  stronger  than  the  greatest 
of  earthly  kings.  He  who  had  sent  so  many  myriads  of 
his  fellow  creatures  to  a  premature  grave,  was  now  him- 
self about  to  descend  to  its  dark  and  cheerless  shadows ; 
and  his  untamed  spirit  was  soon  to  appear  before  the  im- 
partial judge  of  all.  At  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the 
5th  of  May,  1821,  the  immortal  hero  of  Friedland  and  of 
Austerlitz — the  dauntless  conqueror  on  a  hundred  battle- 
fields, once  the  sovereign  and  dictator  of  'the  half  of  Eu- 
rope— expired  on  the  lone  and  barren  heights  of  St.  He- 
lena ;  and  left  the  world  to  that  repose,  security,  and 
peace,  of  which  he  had  so  long  and  so  ambitiously  de- 
prived it. 


352  HIS  REMAINS  REMOVED  TO  FRANCE. 

The  great  event  was  not  unanticipated.  The  whole 
world  awaited  with  breathless  expectation  the  news  which 
would  announce  the  momentous  event ;  and  when  that 
information  at  length  arrived,  and  spread  rapidly  from 
one  end  of  Europe  to  another — that  Napoleon  was  dead — 
a  whole  continent,  nay  even  the  civilized  world,  was  con- 
vulsed by  conflicting  emotions — some  with  joy  and  ex- 
ultation that  death  had  at  last  paralyzed  that  mighty  arm, 
and  some  with  sorrow,  that  so  glorious  a  spirit  had  winged 
its  way  from  earth,  prematurely,  in  the  midst  of  exile, 
suifering  and  obscurity  ;  and  that  they  should  never  more 
behold  its  prodigious  feats  of  heroism  and  of  power. 

On  the  16th  of  December,  1840,  a  singular  and  impos- 
ing spectacle  was  presented  in  the  ancient  and  brilliant 
capital  of  France.  The  remains  of  the  great  emperor, 
transported  from  their  lonely  bed  on  the  rude  heights  of 
St.  Helena,  had  been  won  back  again  to  France,  from  their 
stern  janitors ;  and  now,  his  last  ardent  wish  that  his  re- 
mains might  repose  on  the  sunny  banks  of  the  Seine,  was 
about  to  be  realized.  A  procession  five  miles  in  length, 
and  funeral  solemities  unequalled  in  the  memory  of  man 
for  imposing  grandeur  and  mournful  magnificence,  were 
about  to  commemmorate  the  event ;  and  to  accompany 
their  crumbling  dust  to  its  last  gorgeous  home  beneath- 
the  dome  of  the  Ihvalides.  There  his  dust  now  reposes — 
a  shrine  to  which  millions  will  repair,  as  to  the  most  im- 
pressive and  memorable  spot  on  earth — until  the  end  of 
tune ;  and  till  that  dust,  reanimated  by  omnific  power 
»t  the  last  great  day,  shall  arise  again  to  the  resurrection 
of  the  just  or  the  unjust  1 


RETURN  OF  LOUIS  XVIII.  353 

"Yet  spirit  immortal!  the  tomb  cannot  bind  thee  , 
For  like  thine  own  eagle  that  soared  to  the  sun, 
Thou  springest  from  bondage,  and  leavest  behind  thee, 
A  name  which,  beside  thee,  no  mortal  hath  won. 
Though  nations  may  combat,  and  war's  thunders  rattle, 
No  more  on  thy  steed  shalt  thou  sweep  o'er  the  plain ; 
Thou  sle'pst  thy  last  sleep,  thou  hast  fought  thy  last  battle. 
No  sound  can  awake  thee  to  glory  again  !" 

In  the  spring  of  1814,  after  twenty- three  years  of  exile, 
Louis  XVIII.  ascended  the  throne  of  his  ancestors,  un- 
der the  auspices  of  the  armies  of  the  confederate  powers 
of  Europe.  France  underwent  a  complete  transformation. 
Excepting  the  short  interval  of  the  hundred  days,  Louis 
retained  possession  of  an  uneasy  and  insecure  throne, 
until  the  period  of  his  death  in  September,  1824.  He 
was  succeeded  by  Charles  X.  a  man  of  very  considerable 
abilities,  and  energy  of  character.  This  monarch  was 
highly  conservative  in  his  principles,  and  vainly  aimed  to 
bring  back  again  the  absolute  sway  of  throne  and  altar, 
over  a  people  who  had  read  Voltaire  and  Rousseau,  and 
had  heard  the  thrilling  eloquence  of  Vergniaud  and  Robes- 
pierre. After  many  obstinate  struggles  with  the  spirit 
and  the  prejudices  of  the  nation,  a  revolution  broke  out 
on  the  27th  of  July,  1830,  in  which  three  thousand  per- 
sons were  killed,  and  Charles  X.  was  compelled  to  abdi- 
cate. He  fled  from  the  country.  To  him  succeeded 
Louis  Phillipe,  the  representative  of  the  younger  branch 
of  the  Bourbon  dynasty.  After  eighteen  years  of  dexter- 
ous but  unprincipled,  government,  Louis  Phillipe  was  also 
expelled  from  the  throne  by  a  sudden  insurrection  of  the 
Parisian  populace,  and  a  Republic  was  established  in  the 

stead  of  the  banished  princes.    These  events  opened  the 

23 


354  LOUIS   PHILLIPE. 

way  for  the  remarkable  career  of  the  wise  and  sagacious 
statesman,  who  now  governs  France,  and  who  has  so  won- 
derfully introduced  the  splendid  and  prosperous  era  of 
the  Second  Empire. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  CAREEft  OF  LOUIS  NAPOLEON  EMPEEOR  OF  THE  FRENCH. 

THE  elevation  of  Louis  Napoleon  to  one  of  the  most 
brilliant  and  powerful  thrones  in  the  world  after  so  many 
years  of  exile,  persecution,  and  contempt,  presents  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  spectacles  recorded  in  history.  It 
was  not  very  singular  that,  when  the  elder  branch  of  the 
great  house  of  Bourbon  had  proved  itself  utterly  unfit  to 
wield  the  destinies  of  France,  the  prudent  and  experienced 
Louis  Phillipe  should  have  been  substituted  in  their  place, 
by  a  nation  who  were  wearied  of  change,  and  who  de- 
sired a  permanent  government,  possessing  some  consid- 
erable elements  of  popular  liberty.  Louis  Phillipe  had 
won  the  respect  of  the  whole  world,  by  his  natural  and 
acquired  gifts,  by  his  prudence  and  patience  in  misfortune, 
and  by  the  talents  for  government  which  he  had  already 
displayed.  But  none  of  these  favorable  influences  op- 
erated in  behalf  of  the  discomfited  hero  of  Strasburg  and 
Boulogne ;  and  yet,  propitious  fortune,  and  his  own  un- 
expected displays  of  genius,  have  placed  in  his  vigorous 
hand,  a  scepter  more  powerful  and  despotic  than  that 
of  Louis  Phillipe. 

Louis  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE  was  born  at  Paris  on  the 
20th  of  April,  1808.  He  was  the  son  of  Louis  Bonaparte, 
the  brother  of  the  emperor  Napoleon  I.,  and  Hortense 
de  Beauharnais,  the  daughter  of  Josephine.  His  birth 


856  PARENTAGE  OF  NAPOLEON  III. 

was  celebrated  with  some  enthusiasm,  inasmuch  as  his 
near  relationship  to  the  emperor  rendered  it  not  impossi- 
ble that,  at  some  future  period  in  the  absence  of  more 
direct  heirs,  the  son  of  the  amiable  Hortense  might  in- 
herit the  dominion  of  the  great  conqueror.  He  was  bap- 
tised at  Fontainbleau,  and  Napoleon  and  the  empress 
Maria  Louisa,  officiated  as  sponsors  at  the  ceremony. 
All  this  partiality  was  based  on  the  supposition,  that 
Louis  Napoleon  was  legitimate ;  but  there  were  not  want- 
ing persons  both  then,  and  since,  who  positively  asserted 
that  the  father  of  the  present  emperor  of  the  French  was 
not  the  king  of  Holland,  but  the  Dutch  Admiral  Verhuel ; 
between  whom  and  Hortense  there  was  known  to  exist 
a  most  intimate  and  confidential  attachment.  It  is  also 
asserted  that  Louis  Napoleon,  the  husband  of  Hortense, 
was  fully  aware  of  this  circumstance ;  that  it  was  not 
unknown  to  the  rest  of  the  Bonaparte  family ;  that  the 
son  of  ex-king  Jerome  used  frequently  to  say,  "Napoleon 
HI.  is  a  stranger  to  our  family ;  he  is  a  Dutchman  ;  "  and 
that  the  widow  of  Lucien  Bonaparte  was  accustomed  to 
speak  of  the  prisoner  of  Ham,  only  as  the  "person  bear- 
ing the  false  name."  Other  members  of  this  remarkable 
family  have  frequently  used  in  reference  to  the  successful 
adventurer,  an  epithet  much  less  charitable  or  decorous 
than  this. 

Louis  Napoleon  was  seven  years  old  when  the  great 
disaster  of  Waterloo  prostrated  the  empire  of  Napoleon  I. 
in  the  dust.  Immediately  afterward  his  mother  retired 
to  Augsburg,  in  Bavaria,  and  her  son  accompanied  her 
After  a  considerable  period  they  removed  to  Arenemberg, 
Switzerland ;  and  there  the  studies  of  Louis  Napoleon 


NAPOLEON  III.  AT  ARENEMBERG.  357 

seriously  began.  He  devoted  himself  particularly  to  the 
belles-lettres,  and  to  the  exact  sciences,  as  well  as  to  the 
study  of  the  military  art.  To  improve  himself  in  this  lat- 
ter branch  of  knowledge,  he  visited  the  camp  at  Thun, 
and  actively  engaged  in  every  species  of  military  service. 

It  was  while  thus  employed  that  the  revolution  of  1830 
broke  out  at  Paris,  which  placed  Louis  Phillipe  upon  the 
throne  of  France.  The  enmity  of  this  disguised  despot 
to  the  whole  Bonaparte  race  is  well  known.  Louis  Na- 
poleon was  in  Italy  when  his  elder  brother,  Charles  Bona- 
parte expired ;  and  he  thus  became  the  legitimate  heir 
and  representative  of  the  great  emperor,  inasmuch  as  the 
king  of  Rome  was  also  removed,  nearly  at  the  same  pe- 
riod, by  the  fatal  artifices  and  intrigues  of  Louis  Phillipe. 
Louis  Napoleon  returned  to  his  retreat  in  Switzerland, 
and  devoted  himself  industriously  to  the  pursuit  of  mili- 
tary knowledge,  and  of  general  information.  It  was  at 
this  period  that  he  published  a  work  which  exhibits  very 
considerable  abilities  as  an  author;  his  Considerations 
militaires  sur  la  Suisse.  This  production  won  for  its  au- 
thor no  mean  reputation ;  and  procured  for  him  from 
the  Swiss  cantons,  the  honorable  title  and  dignity  of 
Citizen  of  the  Republic. 

During  this  period,  not  only  Louis  Napoleon,  but  also 
his  mother  were  very  much  embarrassed  in  their  circum- 
stances. Of  all  the  vast  wealth  which  the  queen  of  Hol- 
land once  possessed,  nothing  then  remained  to  her  but 
one  valuable  diamond  necklace.  Driven  by  necessity,  she 
at  length  sent  word  to  the  Tuilleries,  that  she  was  reduced 
to  the  deepest  misery,  and  had  nothing  remaining  but 
that  necklace,  which  she  entreated  the  royal  family  to 


358        HE  CONSPIRES  AGAINST  LOUIS  PHILLIPE. 

purchase  from  her.  In  reply  she  was  asked,  at  what  price 
she  would  dispose  of  it  ?  She  answered,  at  four  hundred 
thousand  francs.  They  accepted  the  sale,  and  instead  of 
sending  her  the  amount  demanded,  they  gave  her  the 
sum  of  seven  hundred  thousand.  This  opportune  and  gen- 
erous act  on  the  part  of  the  female  portion  of  the  family 
of  Louis  Phillipe,  preserved  the  unfortunate  Hortense 
from  future  want  and  misery. 

But  this  display  of  generosity  did  not  prevent  Louis 
Napoleon  from  feeling  it  his  duty  to  attempt  the  over- 
throw of  the  "  king  of  the  barricades."  Feeling  dissatis- 
fied with  the  state  of  France,  and  hoping  by  a  revolution 
to  realize  his  life-long  aspiration,  and  even  presentiment, 
that  he  should  one  day  occupy  the  throne  of  his  illustrious 
uncle,  he  commenced  extensive  intrigues  with  the  army. 
His  emmissaries  were  neither  few  nor  inefficient.  Among 
other  officers  of  distinction,  whom  he  gamed  over  to  his 
interest,  was  Vaudry,  the  commandant  of  the  garrison  of 
Strasburg.  That  officer  was  active  in  seducing  the  sold- 
iers under  him;  and  in  holding  communications  with 
other  commandants  throughout  France.  At  length,  the 
conspirators  thought  that  their  schemes  were  ripe,  and 
that  the  favorable  moment  for  action  had  arrived.  On 
the  29th  of  October,  1836,  Louis  Napoleon  crossed  the 
French  frontier,  and  entered  Strasburg,  in  order  to  meet 
a  secret  assemblage  of  the  officers  who  were  disaffected 
toward  the  government  of  Louis  Phillipe.  The  prince 
addressed  them  in  an  animated  speech,  and  strove  to  ex- 
cite their  enthusiasm.  He  partially  succeeded ;  the  sol- 
diers who  had  been  won  over,  paraded  the  streets  of  the 
city;  the  revolution  was  proclaimed;  and  an  effort  made 


AFFAIR  OF  STRASBURG.  859 

to  create  a  general  and  favorable  excitement  throughout 
the  city.  The  whole  movement  was  premature  and 
abortive.  It  was  easily  suppressed,  and  its  precipitate 
leader,  together  with  his  principal  supporters,  were  made 
prisoners.  Louis  Napoleon  was  tried  and  condemned  to 
death ;  but  on  the  urgent  supplications  of  his  mother,  his 
life  was  spared,  and  he  was  banished  to  the  United 
States.  Little  did  the  family  of  Louis  Phillipe  then  im- 
agine, that  the  ruined  adventurer  whom  their  generosity 
had  once  saved  from  poverty  and  starvation,  and  after- 
ward from  death  itself,  would  at  a  later  period,  supplant 
them  on  their  throne  ;  would  take  the  extreme  measure 
of  compelling  them  to  dispose  at  a  sacrifice  of  all  their 
property  in  France  ;  and  would  so  surround  his  scepter 
with  every  bulwark  of  power,  of  popular  adulation,  and 
of  material  defense,  that  their  own  return  to  empire  has 
been  made  thereby,  the  most  improbable,  and  the  most 
difficult  of  all  the  eventualities  which  lie  hidden  in  the 
deep  and  dark  bosom  of  futurity ! 

The  prince  was  conducted  to  Paris  under  a  guard; 
taken  thence  to  L'Orient,  and  placed  on  board  the  An- 
dromede.  He  arrived  safely  in  New  York,  and  spent  the 
first  few  weeks  of  his  sojourn  in  the  great  republic  of 
the  west,  in  travelling  through  its  most  remarkable  and 
interesting  regions.  At  this  period  of  his  Lfe,  Louis  Na- 
poleon was  characterized  no  longer  by  his  ardent  love  of 
science,  nor  by  his  ambitious  longings  and  intrigues.  He 
had  become,  partly  by  the  force  of  circumstances,  partly 
from  disappointment  and  chagrin,  and  partly  from  the 
strong  natural  bias  of  his  nature,  which  he  no  longer  sup- 
pressed, a  reckless  debauchee  and  libertine.  His  acts  of 


360  HIS  SOJOURN  IN  NEW  YORK 

immorality  and  vice  rendered  him  even  notorious.  In 
New  York,  he  became  the  habitue  of  the  most  celebrated 
haunts  of  infamy  and  licentiousness.  He  was  equally  re- 
gardless of  all  pecuniary  liabilities.  He  outraged  public 
propriety  and  decency  by  his  extreme  excesses.  He  was 
even  arrested  and  imprisoned  in  the  common  jail,  and 
there  herded  with  the  lowest  and  basest  of  mankind. 
Not  long  prior  to  his  leaving  New  York,  he  was  arrested 
for  a  disgraceful  misdemeanor,  committed  by  him  in  the 
house  of  a  woman,  whose  establishment  he  frequently 
visited.  So  notorious  had  he  become  at  that  time,  that 
he  received  from  the  French  residents  of  New  York  the 
Parisian  epithet  of  Badenguet ;  a  term  used  to  designate 
those  debauchees  and  drunkards  who,  being  hopelessly 
involved  in  debt,  regularly  waste  Sundays  and  Mondays 
without  the  barriers,  in  places  of  amusement.  At  this 
period  the  prince  was  reduced  to  the  lowest  poverty ; 
and  subsisted  entirely  on  the  sums  loaned  and  given  him 
by  his  male  and  female  friends. 

He  was  recalled  from  this  life  of  degradation  and  de- 
pendence by  the  sad  news  of  the  dangerous  illness  of  his 
mother.  He  immediately  embai'ked  at  New  York  for 
Europe,  and  hastened  to  the  bed-side  of  the  ex-queen  of 
Holland  at  Arenemberg.  She  expired ;  and  scarcely  had 
she  been  interred,  when  Louis  Phillipe  demanded  from 
the  Swiss  cantons,  the  expulsion  of  the  hero  of  Strasburg 
from  their  territories.  He  was  compelled  once  more  to 
flee ;  and  on  this  occasion  he  took  refuge  in  England. 

The  life  of  the  Prince  Napoleon  during  his  residence 
in  England,  very  much  resembled  that  which  he  led, 
while  residing  in  the  United  States.  His  pecuniary  ne> 


HIS  EXILE  IN  ENGLAND.  361 

cessities  compelled  him  to  descend  to  many  ignoble  ex- 
pedients from  which  doubtless  his  own  sense  of  propriety 
would  have  revolted ;  while  his  disappointed  ambition 
and  the  death  of  his  mother  disposed  him  to  indulge  still 
more  deeply  in  the  licentiousness  and  dissipation  which 
had  marked  his  conduct  at  a  previous  period.  Nor  can 
any  one  who  contemplates  the  career  of  this  remarkable 
man,  fail  to  be  struck  with  the  amazing  extremes  of  fort- 
une exhibited  with  reference  to  his  history  in  England  ; 
how,  in  1840  he  was  there  an  impoverished  exile,  broken 
in  hope,  in  fortune,  and  in  character ;  how,  at  that  time, 
he  was  the  known  and  despised  frequenter  of  every  haunt 
of  fashionable,  and  even  of  ignoble  vice ;  how  the  smal- 
lest municipal  office  then  contented  his  ambition,  and  im- 
proved his  finances  ;  how  his  condition  and  his  expecta- 
tions were  then  looked  upon  as  so  hopeless  as  to  be  even 
beneath  derision  and  contempt;  and  how,  in  1854,  that 
same  Louis  Napoleon  was  received  by  the  Queen  of  that 
vast  empire  in  her  stateliest  array ;  how  he  rode  along 
the  same  streets  which  had  once  witnessed  his  poverty 
and  abasement,  surrounded  by  the  greatest  pomp  and 
splendor,  by  the  most  brilliant  equipages,  and  by  all  the 
grand  and  imposing  display  which  an  opulent  and  powerful 
court  could  throw  around  him ;  and  how  he  then  retired 
to  be  feasted  and  feted  with  the  utmost  magnificence  in 
the  halls  of  that  palace  from  whose  very  portals  he  would 
formerly  have  been  repulsed  with  ignominy ! 

In  1840  ambition  once  more  gained  the  mastery  over 
the  prudence  and  the  indifference  of  the  prince,  and  he 
made  his  second  ill-advised  attempt  to  overthrow  the 
throne  of  Louis  Phillipe.  Whatever  might  have  been 


362  THE  AFFAIR  OF  BOULOGNE. 

the  extent  of  the  conspiracy  which  existed  in  France 
among  the  Bonapartists,  whatever  their  resources  may 
have  been,  it  is  apparent  that  they  were  at  that  period 
not  sufficiently  organized,  nor  impelled  by  a  spirit  prop- 
erly guided,  to  secure  the  remotest  prospect  of  success. 
In  August  of  1840,  Napoleon  embarked  on  board  the 
Ediriburg  Castle,  and  landed  at  Boulogne,  with  a  small 
number  of  associates  as  reckless,  as  desperate,  and  as 
drunken  as  himself.  Upon  their  arrival  they  attempted 
to  create  a  ferment  in  favor  of  the  prince ;  but  all  to  no 
purpose.*  During  the  excitement  which  ensued  while 
Napoleon  and  his  friends  were  attempting  to  seduce  the 
garrison  of  Boulogne  from  their  allegiance,  he  had  an  al- 
tercation with  the  commandant  in  which  he  discharged 
his  pistol  with  the  intention  of  shooting  him,  but  missed 
his  aim  and  killed  a  private  soldier  standing  quietly  in  his 
ranks.  This  was  the  extent  of  his  achievements  on  this 
occasion.  In  a  very  short  time  the  prince  was  again  ar- 

*  "The  captain  of  the  steamer  told  us  that  the  rebels  had  drunk 
sixteen  dozen  bottles  of  wine  during  their  passage  from  London  to 
Wimereux,  without  counting  brandy  and  liqueurs.  The  soldiers 
of  the  42nd,  who  were  present  at  the  contest,  and  whom  we  have 
interrogated,  have  assured  us  that  the  rebels  were  almost  all  TIPSY." 
(Proces  de  N.  L.  Bonaparte,  <tc.,  1  vol.  published  by  Pagnerre, 
1840,  p.  28.)  At  length  the  prefect  of  Boulogne,  M.  Launay-Le- 
prevot,  says  in  addition,  in  his  private  report : — "  L.  Bonaparte 
and  suite  seem  to  have  landed  this  morning  at  about  three  or  four 
o'clock,  at  a  distance  of  two  miles  and  a  half  from  the  city  of 
Boulogne.  During  their  march  towards  the  town,  they  stopped 
to  drink."  (Proces,  <fec.,  p.  7.)  It  must  be  owned  that  those  are 
not  very  temperate  emperor's  nephews.  Wine  and  gold — such 
constitute  all  the  genius  of  the  modern  Augustus.  We  have  not 
forgotten  the  libation  in  the  plain  of  Satory,  where  the  troopa 
were  for  the  first  time  made  to  call  out;  Vive  1'Empereur  1  " 


THE  PRINCE  IMPRISONED  AT  HAM.  363 

rested  ;  the  live  eagle  which  he  had  brought  with  lira  as 
an  emblem  of  his  anticipated  success,  was  decapitated ; 
his  companions  still  reeling  with  the  effects  of  their  de- 
bauch, were  easily  put  in  durance ;  and  this  absurd  ex- 
pedition ended  in  disappointment  and  disgrace. 

The  prince  though  again  guilty  of  treason,  and  though 
he  did  not  even  then  suffer  the  penalty  which  treason  de- 
serves, did  not  escape  on  such  easy  terms  as  before.  He 
was  conveyed  as  a  prisoner  to  the  fortress  of  Ham ;  and 
his  detention  there  continued  for  the  period  of  six 
years.  His  sentence  was  that  of  imprisonment  for  life  ; 
and  it  was  doubtless  the  intention  of  Louis  Phillipe  to 
place  the  restless  representative  of  the  Napoleonic  dy- 
nasty forever  beyond  the  power  of  again  disturbing  the 
security  and  perpetuity  of  his  throne.  It  is  an  evidence 
of  the  superiority  of  mind  possessed  by  this  remarkable 
man,  that  though  a  voluptuary  when  at  liberty,  when 
confined  within  a  prison  he  was  capable  of,  and  disposed 
to,  turn  his  thoughts  to  dignified  subjects  of  inquiry,  and 
to  engage  in  continuous  and  careful  investigations  into 
the  most  important  questions  of  political  economy,  and 
the  wealth  and  prosperity  of  nations.  In  1842  he  pub- 
lished his  work  entitled,  Analysis  of  the  Questions  of 
Sugars  /  which  evinced  a  deep  acquaintance  with  the 
subject,  and  a  great  degree  of  facility  as  a  writer.  This 
work  was  followed  shortly  afterward  by  another,  his  Re- 
flections on  Recruiting  the  Army  ;  which  displayed  an 
equal  degree  of  research  and  reflection  upon  a  widely 
different,  but  equally  important  department  of  the  pubiio 
welfare. 

In    pursuits    such  as  these,  six  years   of    captivity 


364  HE  RESOLVES  TO  ESCAPE. 

passed  away.  The  prisoner  of  Ham  neither  forgot  the 
former  impulses  of  his  ambition,  nor  was  he  forgotten  by 
the  great  and  powerful  party  in  France  of  whom  he  was 
the  representative.  On  the  2d  of  May,  1847,  he  deter- 
mined to  execute  his  project  of  escape.  The  various 
events  which  were  occurring  under  the  government  of 
Louis  Phillipe,  clearly  indicated  to  the  sagacious  mind  of 
Louis  Napoleon,  that  a  crisis  was  approaching,  and  that 
he  should  be  prepared  to  take  advantage  of  it. 

The  plan  of  escape  projected  by  the  captive  was  ad- 
mirably adapted  to  succeed.  Workmen  were  then  pass- 
ing to  and  fro  through  the  castle,  completing  some  re- 
pairs which  had  been  commenced  near  the  apartment  oc- 
cupied by  Louis  Napoleon.  At  the  time  appointed,  he 
dressed  himself  in  the  garb  of  one  of  the  workmen,  throw- 
ing a  common  blouse  over  the  rest  of  his  attire.  He 
shaved  off  his  moustaches.  A  long  pipe  adorned  his 
mouth,  and  a  heavy  board  was  laid  ready  to  be  elevated 
to  his  shoulder  in  order  to  complete  the  deception. 
There  were  two  relics  which  the  prince  valued  infinitely, 
which  he  was  loth  to  leave  behind  him ;  and  yet  their 
presence  on  his  person,  in  case  he  should  afterward  be 
searched,  would  inevitably  condemn  him.  These  relics 
were  so  highly  prized  that  for  many  years  Louis  Napoleon 
had  uniformly  carried  them  in  his  bosom.  One  of  them 
was  a  letter  of  his  mother  filled  with  expressions  of  ten- 
derness ;  and  it  was  the  last/  which  he  had  received  from 
ner  previous  to  her  death.  The  other  was  a  letter  from 
the  Emperor  Napoleon  to  Hortense,  in  which  he  spoke 
of  her  son  in  the  following  terms :  "  I  hope  he  will  grow 
up  and  make  himself  worthy  of  the  destinv  which  awaits 


HE  IS  ELECTED  A  REPRESENTATIVE.  365 

him."  At  length,  after  pondering  for  some  time  what 
he  should  do  with  these  precious  mementoes,  he  deter- 
mined to  risk  the  danger  of  their  retention.  They  are 
prized  until  the  present  hour  by  their  fortunate  possessor, 
as  his  richest  and  most  invaluable  treasures. 

Fortune  favored  the  prisoner,  and  under  his  strange 
disguise,  he  escaped  the  guards  of  the  castle.  He  first 
fled  to  Brussels,  thence  to  Ostend,  and  afterward  to  Eng- 
land. The  discontent  which  existed  in  France  against 
the  government  of  Louis  Phillipe  increased,  and  finally 
ended  in  the  sudden  and  mysterious  revolution  which 
precipitated  him  from  the  throne.  Previous  to  this  event, 
the  friends  of  Louis  Napoleon  among  the  French  had 
not  been  idle.  Five  departments  voted  to  admit  him  tc 
citizenship.  He  published  a  manifesto  in  which  he  in- 
genously  acknowledged  his  attachment  to  France,  and 
his  honorable  ambition  to  render  himself  hi  some  promi- 
nent way  useful  to  her  interests.  "  My  heart  tells  me," 
said  he,  "  that  I  shall  be  worthy  of  the  confidence  of  the 
nation."  The  dissatisfaction  of  the  people  with  their 
rulers  increased ;  the  pot-house  politicians  had  at  that 
time  assumed  considerable  importance ;  and  their  vio- 
lence had  rendered  their  influence  in  the  state  both  de- 
cisive and  dangerous.  On  the  fall  of  Louis  Phillipe, 
Louis  Napoleon  hastened  to  Paris ;  but  the  provisional 
government,  with  the  imbecile  and  visionary  Lamartine 
at  its  head,  informed  the  prince  that  his  presence  in  the 
capital  embarrassed  the  new  government  which  then  be- 
gan to  rule  in  France,  and  requested  him  to  withdraw. 
He  did  so ;  but  he  was  soon  elected  a  deputy  to  the 
chambers,  and  returned  to  occupy  the  post  thus  assigned 


366  HE  IS  ELECTED   PRESIDENT. 

him  by  the  people.  In  this  position  he  was  not  indiffer- 
ent to  the  advancement  of  his  personal  interests,  and  to 
the  accomplishment  of  those  more  ambitious  hopes  which 
had  so  long  and  so  powerfully  animated  him. 

Lamartine  retired  from  his  position  as  head  of  the 
provisional  government,  after  having  won  for  himself  the 
contempt  and  pity  of  every  intelligent  man  in  France. 
A  new  president  was  about  to  be  elected.  Now  was  the 
great  turning  point  in  the  destiny  of  the  heir  of  the 
Bonaparte  dynasty ;  and  his  confederates  and  partisans, 
fully  conscious  of  the  importance  of  the  crisis,  were  de- 
termined to  improve  it.  Their  exertions  were  unremit- 
ting throughout  France,  to  secure  the  election  of  Louis 
Napoleon  to  the  presidency.  The  utmost  use  was  made 
of  the  immense  and  undying  popularity  of  the  great  Na- 
poleon, among  all  classes  of  the  French  people,  in  order 
to  excite  their  sympathy,  and  to  win  their  votes  for  his 
representative.  France  was  filled  with  innumerable  busts, 
with  countless  portraits,  and  with  every  possible  me- 
mento of  the  illustrious  Corsican.  These  exertions  and 
expedients  succeeded.  Louis  Napoleon  was  elected 
president  of  France,  by  the  voices  of  seven  millions  of 
voters.  Louis  Phillipe  may  with  truth  be  said  to  have 
ensured  his  own  ruin,  and  the  elevation  of  the  rival  dy- 
nasty, by  admitting  the  remains  of  the  illustrious  sleeper 
of  St.  Helena  to  a  last  resting  place  on  the  banks  of  the 
Seme  which  he  loved  so  well,  and  where  he  had  so  ar- 
dently desired  to  rest.  From  the  hour  that  the  conqueror 
of  Austerlitz  entered  beneath  the  sublime  dome  of  the 
InvalideS)  the  knell  of  the  house  of  Orleans  struck  for- 
ever ;  their  future  downfall  became  inevitable ;  and  tb» 


HIS  TALENTS  AS  A  RULER.  36 

accession  of  a  Bonaparte  to  the  throne  was  an  irresistible 
necessity ! 

Having  thus  attained  the  first  step  of  his  ambitious  as- 
cent, and  having  realized  the  apparently  fabulous  dream 
of  his  youth,  and  of  his  manhood,  Louis  Napoleon  began 
to  govern  France  with  an  unexpected  degree  of  intelli- 
gence, sagacity,  firmness,  and  popularity.  All  men  were 
astounded  at  the  sudden  display  of  these  high  and  rare 
qualities  which  he  made.  From  the  very  day  of  his  ac- 
cession to  his  supreme  office,  he  commenced  to  win  for 
himself  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  able,  the  most 
wise,  the  most  successful  ruler  among  the  whole  herd 
of  European  sovereigns ;  and  it  seemed  almost  like  a  fan- 
ciful dream  of  political  romance,  or  a  historical  Utopia, 
that  the  once  dissipated  and  debauched  adventurer  who 
had  been  the  familiar  inmate  of  every  haunt  of  licentious- 
ness in  New  York  and  London,  should  so  completely 
have  disrobed  himself  of  his  former  ignoble  qualities,  that 
he  should  have  suddenly  assumed  the  characteristics  of 
the  wisest  and  noblest  of  the  race ;  and  that  he  should 
have  commenced  a  life  utterly  at  variance,  and  indeed 
incongruous,  with  all  that  had  preceded.  France  began 
to  flourish  beneath  his  vigorous  and  beneficent  sway,  as 
she  had  never  flourished  before.  Public  confidence  was 
restored.  Commerce  and  manufactures  prospered.  In- 
ternal faction  was  broken  or  at  least  became  impotent 
and  silent.  The  nation  very  soon  reached  a  degree  of 
prosperity  such  as  it  had  never  experienced,  even  under 
the  gigantic  scepter  of  the  elder  Napoleon. 

There  was  but  one  impediment  in  the  way  of  the  un 
limited  progress  o*.  France  toward  national  triumph  and 


368  CAUSES  OF  THE  COUP  D'ETAT. 

success.  This  impediment  was  found  in  the  legislative 
body,  the  Chambers,  which  still  possessed  very  consid- 
erable power,  which  enabled  its  members  to  embarrass 
the  president,  to  impede  his  operations,  and  very  essen- 
tially to  mould  the  measures  of  the  government.  The 
French  people  soon  discovered  that  while  all  the  plans  of 
Louis  Napoleon  was  characterized  by  much  wise  sagacity 
and  benevolent  wisdom,  he  was  sorely  clogged  by  the 
jealousy  and  obstinacy  of  the  Chambers.  The  French 
people  began,  while  their  admiration  for,  and  confidence 
in,  the  president  increased,  to  conceive  a  growing  con- 
tempt for  the  Chambers.  They  themselves  wondered 
why  the  president  did  not  by  some  sudden  coup  of  ne- 
cessary and  salutary  violence,  rid  himself  of  the  useless, 
and  even  pernicious  weight  which  harrassed  and  impeded 
him.  They  thought  that  Louis  Napoleon  would  be  per- 
fectly justified  in  taking  some  such  step ;  and  they  were 
prepared  to  acquiesce  in  case  his  opinion  and  determina- 
tion coincided  with  their  own  conviction.  In  truth,  his 
own  position  was  becoming  quite  untenable.  He  was 
frequently  loaded  with  the  odium  of  injurious  measures, 
for  the  adoption  of  which  he  was  not  in  justice  responsi- 
ble ;  which  he  even  detested ;  and  which  he  had  put 
forth  his  utmost  endeavors  to  defeat.  In  fact  aifairs  had 
at  length  come  to  such  a  crisis,  that  either  the  French 
Chambers  must  be  suppressed,  and  the  factionists  over- 
awed ;  or  Louis  Napoleon  must  descend  in  ignominy 
from  the  high  place  which  he  had  already  proved  himself 
so  eminently  worthy  to  fill. 

Such  was  the  train  of  circumstances  which  brought  on 
the  necessity  of  the  celebrated,  and  sometimes  execrated, 


NECESSITY  OF  THE  MEASURE,  369 

coup  d'etat  of  Louis  Napoleon.  Under  the  circumstances 
of  the  case,  it  was  a  useful,  an  excusable,  even  an  indis- 
pensable, and  an  unavoidable  expedient.  It  saved  France 
already  so  often  and  so  sadly  torn  by  internal  strife  and 
faction,  by  the  ruinous  hostility  of  parties,  and  by  the 
frequent  change  of  its  forms  of  government,  from  the 
deadly  fangs  of  anarchists,  and  political  desperadoes; 
and  gave  it  the  inestimable  blessings  of  a  settled,  perma- 
nent and  vigorous  administration  of  affairs.  That  some 
blood  must  needs  be  shed  in  accomplishing  this  very 
great  and  important  re«ult,  was  to  be  expected.  That  a 
very  considerable  number  of  raving  and  selfish  fanatics, 
whose  interests  and  influence  were  ruined  by  the  triumph 
of  the  president,  would  become  frantic  iu  his  denuncia- 
tion, was  according  to  the  natural  course  of  things.  That 
even  a  very  few  innocent  persons  might  be  made  to  suf- 
fer by  the  casualties  incident  to  the  revolution,  might  also 
be  possible.  But  that  these  minor  evils  were  as  nothing 
compared  to  the  vast  amount  of  good  which  a  coup  d'etat 
would  effect,  was  unquestionable.  The  desperate  diseases 
of  the  state,  had  evidently  rendered  the  use  of  the  most 
desperate  remedies  quite  indispensable  ;  and  no  wise  man 
would  blame  Louis  Napoleon,  if  he  yielded  to  the  existing 
necessity,  and  employed  such,  remedies  in  case  his  subse- 
quent treatment  of  the  patient  was  judicious,  benevolent 
and  beneficial. 

Yielding  to  considerations  such  as  these,  Louis  Napo- 
leon determined  to  accomplish  his  celebrated  coup  d^etat, 
which  took  place  on  the  2d  of  December,  1851.  The 
army  was  first  converted  to  the  convictions  and  purposes 

of  the  president.     Early  on  the  morning  of  that  day  all 
P*  24 


3^0  INCIDENTS  OF  THE  COUP  D'ETAT. 

the  most  eminent  and  distinguished  opponents  of  the 
president  were  arrested  while  still  in  their  beds.  When 
the  Chambers  met,  they  were  expelled  from  their  hall. 
The  streets  of  Paris  were  filled  with  thousands  of  soldiers, 
who  maintained  peace  and  dispersed  the  crowds  which 
were  disposed  to  be  resistive  and  riotous.  Many  were 
shot  down  by  the  military.  If  there  were  any  unjustifia- 
ble acts  committed  by  the  agents  of  Napoleon,  it  was  in 
the  severity  with  which  his  troops  executed  his  orders  to 
fire  into  houses  which  seemed  to  contain  persons  hostile 
to  the  success  of  the  movement.  No  doubt,  many  per- 
sons were  injured,  and  some  slain,  who  were  totally  inno- 
cent of  any  intention  to  participate  in  the  events  of  the 
day.  But  even  this  misfortune,  and  this  injustice,  were 
evils  inseperably  connected  with  the  accomplishment  of 
the  useful  and  desirable  purposes  of  the  movement.  A 
few  days  of  terror  and  uncertainty  were  the  necessary 
prelude  to  the  long  era  of  national  security,  prosperity 
and  happiness,  which  has  since  ensued,  as  the  result  of  the 
establishment  of  the  power  of  Louis  Napoleon  on  a  per- 
manent basis. 

Three  days  sufficed  to  accomplish  the  difficult  task  of 
establishing  the  throne  of  Louis  Napoleon  throughout 
France.  When  the  agitation  subsided,  some  incidents 
which  had  occurred  called  forth  the  regret  of  the  nation. 
The  imprudence  of  the  military  in  the  execution  of  their 
orders  was  the  principal  cause  of  this  feeling.  Thus  lor 
instance,  M.  Jollevard,  a  distinguished  landscape  painter 
was  shot  dead  while  quietly  pursuing  his  artistic  labors 
in  -his  lodgings ;  and  the  windows  of  the  houses  near  him 
were  all  broken  by  the  fusillades  of  the  troops.*  M 

*See  "London  Times."  of  December  13th,  1851. 


NECESSARY  LOSS  OF  LIFE.  371 

Biandus,  another  distinguished  Parisian,  very  narrowly 
escaped  death ;  and  a  servant  of  his  was  shot  dead  at  his 
side,  while  standing  in  the  private  apartment  of  his  mas- 
ter. Multitudes  of  dwellings  were  penetrated  byballa 
in  every  direction ;  and  for  the  time  being,  the  lives  of 
their  inmates  were  insecure.  One  of  the  most  active 
agents  of  Louis  Napoleon  on  this  occasion,  himself  admits, 
that  "all  obstacles  were  removed  by  merely  running 
through  them,  and  those  who  defended  them  were  passed 
to  the  sword."*  The  public  organ  of  the  prince  itself  ad- 
mitted that  "  his  troops  had  not  spared  one  single  insur- 
gent."! And  7et  tne  inhabitants  of  Paris  had  been  pub- 
licly forewarned  of  the  necessity  of  their  avoiding  the 
public  streets  during  the  progress  of  the  movement ;  and 
if  they  chose  to  incur  the  risk  of  the  dangers  which  im- 
pended, they  were  themselves  to  blame.  On  the  2d  of 
December,  Maupas,  the  prefect  of  police  published  a  proc- 
lamation in  which  the  events  which  were  about  to  occur 
were  predicted ;  and  every  one  was  forewarned  to  avoid 
them.  Said  he :  "  Do  not  go  on  the  Boulevards,  for  any 
gathering  together  of  the  people  will  be  dispersed  by  force 
of  arms,  and  without  previous  summons."J  If,  therefore, 
in  the  face  of  premonition  so  public  and  so  clear  as  this,  a 
portion  of  the  population  of  Paris  persisted  in  traversing 
the  streets,  and  if  another  portion  of  them  obstinately 
gratified  their  curiosity  by  crowding  the  windows  of  sus- 

*  Report  of  General  Magnare  on  the  affray  of  December,  Moni- 
teur,  December  9th,  1851. 

f  Patrie,  of  December  6,  1851. 

JSee  P.  Mager,  Histoire  due  2  Decembre,  page  155.     Also  Mand- 
nit,  Revolution  Militaire,  <Sn.,  p.  248. 


372  SUBMISSION  THROUGHOUT  FRANCE. 

pected  houses ;  and  if,  as  a  consequence,  accidents  and  in- 
juries ensued,  the  hero  of  the  coup  d'etat  could  scarcely 
be  blamed,  when  the  ends  to  be  accomplished  were  in 
general  so  beneficial  to  the  public  welfare. 

But  while  Paris,  taken  by  surprise,  and  adroitly  bound 
hand  and  foot,  submitted  with  scarcely  any  opposition  to 
the  will  of  the  usurper,  the  rest  of  France  was  not  so  amia- 
ble, so  compliant,  or  so  incapable  of  resistance.  In  Mar- 
seilles and  the  adjoining  province,  the  news  of  the  coup 
d'etat  in  Paris  excited  considerable  indignation.  The 
streets  were  paraded  by  hostile  and  indignant  multitudes, 
who  uttered  the  ancient  war-cry  of  A  bas  le  tyran  !  A 
bas  le  Dictateur  !  Vive  la  Republique  !  The  people  rose 
in  the  Basses- Alps,  and  in  the  Van,  determined  to  resist 
and  to  dethrone  the  new  Robespiere,  who  had  thus 
grasped  the  reins  of  empire,  and  trodden  under  his  feet 
the  liberties  of  France.  But  the  whole  army  had  been 
bought  over  by  Louis  Napoleon,  and  was  the  subservient 
instrument  of  his  will.  He  sent  a  body  of  troops  into  the 
disaffected  provinces  and  cities,  who  confronted  the  nu- 
merous bands  of  insurgents,  fiercely  attacked  them,  and 
put  to  the  sword  all  who  were  taken  with  arms  in  their 
hands.  The  insurrections  were  thus  put  down,  wherever 
they  occurred  throughout  France.  At  Avignon,  at  Lisle, 
at  Cavaillon,  at  St.  Etienne,  at  Nievers,  desperate  con- 
flicts occurred  between  the  insurgents  or  patriots  and  the 
military ;  and  in  every  case,  order  and  submission  were 
secured  by  the  wholesale  massacre  of  all  who  refused  to 
yield.*  After  a  few  days  of  commotion  and  bloodshed, 

*  Constitutional  of  December  16th,  1851.     Patrie  of  the  19th  of 
December.     Also,  Report  of  General  d'Antist,  7th  of  December 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON'S  CONFEDERATES.  373 

the  whole  of  France  became  tranquil,  and  submitted  to 
the  necessity  of  obeying  the  new  and  irresistible  power 
which  had  arisen  in  the  state.  But  that  submission,  m 
most  cases  voluntary,  yet  in  a  few  instances  forced,  was 
not  accompanied  by  apprehensions  of  the  future ;  for  the 
wisdom,  prudence  and  sagacity  which  had  already  been  so 
eminently  displayed  by  the  new  president,  had  won  the 
confidence  of  the  nation,  both  in  his  abilities,  and  also  in 
his  attachment  to  the  interests,  the  glory  and  the  pros- 
perity of  France.*  • 

The  greatest  dissatisfaction  which  existed  among  the 
French  people  against  Louis  Napoleon,  was  in  reference 
to  the  agents  whom  he  had  chosen,  as  his  most  trusted 
advisers,  and  as  the  most  active  ministers  of  his  purposes. 
The  most  prominent  and  the  most  odious  of  all  these, 
was  Marshal  de  St.  Arnaud.  This  man  had  spent  a  tur- 
bulent, dissolute,  and  disgraceful  life.  At  an  early  age  he 
had  espoused  the  military  profession ;  but  he  had  been 
expelled  from  the  Gardes  du  corps  for  misconduct ;  and 
was  even  fortunate  that  he  then  escaped  without  severer 
punishment.  He  was  next  admitted  as  a  sous-lieutenanj 

*" They  write  from  Aups,  12th  of  December:  The  rebels  fled 
across  the  fields,  and  the  one  hundred  horsemen  who  were  joined 
with  the  infantry,  pursued  them,  AND  MADE  A  GREAT  SLAUGHTER  OF 
THEM.  On  the  roads  to  Lorgues,  Salerne,  Tourtour,  and  Aups,  the 
bodies  of  many  insurgents  were  found.  The  column  SHOT  ALMOST 
ALL  THE  REBELS  IT  MET  WITH.  The  troops  were  at  &  short  distance 
from  Aups,  when  they  perceived  a  man  on  horseback,  who,  on  see- 
ing them,  started  off  at  full  gallup.  The  horsemen  rushed  after 
him,  overtook  hiti,  and  discovered  him  to  be  an  estafet,  who  was 
going  to  announce  their  arrival  to  the  insurgents.  To  take  him  ami 
SHOOT  HIM,  occupied  but  an  instant."  (Moniteur,  17th  December.) 


fl74  MARSHAL  ST.  ARNAUD. 

in  the  legion  of  Corsica;  and  from  this  body  he  was  also 
soon  removed,  or  turned  out  for  a  similar  cause.  In  the 
year  1824,  his  situation  had  become  very  dependent  and 
abandoned.  He  had  descended  to  the  character  of  a 
penniless  and  dissolute  adventurer.  He  was  known  as 
such,  in  London,  in  Vienna,  and  in  other  capitals  of  Eu- 
rope. In  1827,  he  was  imprisoned  for  debt  in  St.  Pelagic, 
from  which  he  was  at  length  discharged,  only  in  conse- 
quence of  the  charity  of  some  of  his  acquaintances.  In 
1831,  he  again  obtained  admission  into  the  army,  and 
shortly  afterward,  became  aide-de-camp  to  General 
Bugeaud. 

But  the  conduct  of  St.  Arnaud  rendered  him  repulsive 
even  to  the  army  and  to  his  brother  officers.  In  1837,  he 
served  in  Algeria,  in  the  foreign  legion ;  and  there,  for  the 
first  time,  he  displayed  the  only  redeeming  trait  of  his 
character — the  possession  of  very  considerable  military 
talents.  From  this  period  his  promotion  became  rapid. 
In  1840  he  was  made  chief  de  bataillon ;  in  1844,  colonel 
and  commandant  of  the  subdivision  of  Orleansville ;  in 
1847,  general  of  brigade ;  then  marshal  of  France.* 

Meanwhile  St.  Arnaud  lived  most  extravagantly,  at 
the  rate  of  fifty  thousand  francs  per  year.  As  his  fortunes 
improved  his  dissoluteness  of  life  increased ;  and  the  army 

*  "  Leroy,  alias  de  St.  Arnaud,  no  doubt  passed  off  his  mischan- 
ces as  an  officer,  for  political  disfavors;  for,  in  February,  1831,  he 
obtained  his  re-entry  into  the  service  with  the  rank  of  sub-lieut- 
enant, his  then  constant  military  ne  plus  ultra.  He  was  placed  in 
the  34th  regiment  of  the  line.  He  was  thirty  years  of  age,  and 
although  he  had  spent  two  or  three  years  within  th^  walls  of  a 
prison,  he  accepted  the  post  of  aide-de-camp  to  General  Bugeaud, 


HIS  HISTORY.  375 

in  Algeria,  not  given  to  excessive  virtue  or  rigor,  were 
scandalized  at  his  excesses.  On  the  termination  of  that 
war,  St.  Arnaud  returned  to  France,  and  became  the  in- 
timate friend  and  associate  of  Louis  Napoleon.  The  lat- 
ter, after  his  elevation  to  the  presidency,  promoted  St. 
Arnaud  to  the  post  of  minister  of  war.  When  Napoleon 
meditated  the  achievement  of  his  great  coup  d'etat,  he 
selected  St.  Arnaud  as  his  chief  confidant ;  and  concerted 
with  him  the  measures  which  were  to  be  adopted,  to  ac- 
complish the  intended  result.  Louis  Napoleon  could  not 
have  chosen  a  more  capable,  a  more  suitable,  or  a  more 
unscrupulous  assistant.  St.  Arnaud  highly  distinguished 
himself  by  the  sagacity  with  which  his  measures  were 
adopted,  and  by  the  promptitude,  energy,  and  precision 
with  which  they  were  executed.  Pie  thus  very  materi- 
ally contributed  to  the  success  of  the  movement ;  and 
placed  his  master  under  very  great  obligations  to  him, 
for  the  services  rendered  on  this  critical  occasion.  Nor 
were  those  services  ever  forgotten.  The  grateful  emperor 
heaped  honors,  titles,  and  untold  wealth  upon  his  efficient 
favorite,  and  elevated  him  to  the  highest  pinnacle  of  pros- 
perity and  splendor.  And  last  of  all,  when  the  war  in 

.when  the  latter  was  not  ashamed  to  become  the  keeper  of  Madame 
de  Berry.  In  point  of  truth,  the  ex-garde  du  corps  of  Louis  XVIII. 
was  little  better,  at  Blaye,  than  a  spy  upon  the  daughter-in-law  of 
Charles  X. !  The  Orleani.st  writers  of  the  Bulletin  Francais  (M. 
d'Haussonville  and  M.  Thomas)  were  unwilling  to  utter  the  word 
»py,  out  of  deference  to  M.  Bugeaud,  the  illustrious  sword  of  the 
Orleanists;  but  they  say  that  their  general-gaoler  "considered  M. 
St.  Arnaud  proper  to  fulfil  at  Blaye  some  subaltern  offices  which 
everybody  would  not  have  undertaken."  See  Les  Trois  Marjchaux 


376  HIS  HONORS  AND  REWARDS. 

the  East  demanded  the  presence  of  a  capable  and  energetic 
commander  to  lead  the  armies  of  the  Allies  against  the 
colossal  forces  and  fortresses  of  the  czar  of  Russia,  so 
honorable  and  so  eminent  a  position  was  not  considered 
too  great  a  reward  for  the  distinguished  talents  and  ser- 
vices of  St.  Arnaud.  He  died  in  the  Crimea,  just  before 
the  great  conflict  under  the  walls  of  Sevastopol  began, 
and  it  is  not  improbable,  that,  had  he  survived,  his  des- 
perate courage  and  irresistible  energy  would  have  very 
considerably  shortened  the  struggle  which  took  place  for 
the  mastery  of  that  important  position. 

While  such  were  the  character  and  career  of  the  prin- 
ciple confederate  of  Louis  Napoleon  in  effecting  his  coup 
d'etat,  the  rest  of  them  were  not  unexceptionable.  Ve- 
ron  had  been  condemned  to  disgorge  one  million  four 
hundred  thousand  francs  which  he  had  fraudently  obtained 
from  his  creditors.  Vieyra  had  been  convicted  as  a 
fraudulent  vendor,  and  had  kept  a  house  of  prostitution 
in  Paris.  Sercey  had  been  sentenced  to  five  years  im- 
prisonment for  swindling.  Magnan  had  sold  property 
which  did  not  belong  to  him,  and  had  appropriated  the 
proceeds.*  The  fact  that  these  men,  and  such  as  these, 
had  taken  a  prominent  part  in  the  accomplishment  of  the 
coup  d'etat,  gave  to  th#t  movement  the  appearance  of  the 
reproach  of  having  been  the  work  of  abandoned,  desper- 
ate and  ruined  men ;  who,  like  Cataline  of  old,  aimed  to 
redeem  their  own  fortunes  by  the  downfall  of  the  repub- 
lic, and  by  the  elevation  to  power  of  one,  and  he  the 
most  desperate  of  their  own  notorious  associates. 

*  See  Schoelcher:  "  Alliance  with  the  Men  of  Ihe  coup  d'etat." 
London,  1854. 


LOUIS  NAPOLEON  AS  EMPEROR.  377 

Thus  Louis  Napoleon  became  emperor  of  the  French. 
Seated  on  one  of  the  most  brilliant  thrones  hi  Europe,  he 
has  since  swayed  the  perilous  rod  of  empire  with  extra- 
ordinary prudence,  sagacity  and  ability.  He  has  in  truth 
proved  himself  not  unworthy  of  the  exalted  hopes  which, 
through  all  the  varied  vicissitudes  of  his  life,  he  ever 
tenaciously  entertained ;  and  not  unworthy  even  of  the 
splendid  realization  which  those  hopes  have  at  last  se- 
cured. Five  years  of  administrative  care,  energy  and 
vigilance  on  his  part  have  rendered  France  more  flour- 
ishing than  she  has  even  been  at  any  previous  period. 
He  has  surrounded  his  throne  with  powerful  guarantees 
of  future  permanency,  by  winning  the  confidence  of  the 
nation  hi  his  ability  and  patriotism.  He  has  even  added 
to  the  other  splendors  which  now  encircle  his  name,  those 
which  are  reflected  from  the  lurid  battle-field,  and  from 
the  gory  triumphs  of  war.  He  hated  the  Czar  Nicholas, 
because  the  Russian  potentate  had  treated  his  accession 
to  empire,  with  poorly- disguised  contempt.  To  be  avenged 
for  this  inexcusable  and  inexpiable  insult,  he  sent  an  am- 
bassador to  the  Sublime  Porte,  making  such  demands  on 
behalf  of  the  Lathi  or  Romish  Christians  in  Jerusalem,  in 
reference  to  the  custody  of  the  holy  places  there,  which 
he  knew  Nicholas,  as  the  protector  of  the  Greek  chris- 
tians  in  that  city,  would  oppose,  and  resent.  The  war 
hi  the  east  was  the  ultimate  result  of  that  movement  on 
the  part  of  the  Emperor  Louis  Napoleon.  War  being 
declared  by  Russia  against  the  sultan,  the  French  em- 
peror became  his  ally  and  adroitly  induced  England,  and 
the  other  western  powers,  to  assist  him  in  the  task  of 
humbling  the  czar,  under  the  specious  pretext  of  main 


378  THE  IMPERIAL  MARRIAGE. 

taining  the  balance  of  power  in  the  east.  Thus  Louis 
Napoleon,  to  gratify  his  personal  hostility  against  Nicho- 
las, set  all  Europe  in  a  blaze ;  and  he  has  amply  avenged 
himself  on  his  foe.  Nicholas,  overcome  by  the  cares 
and  the  mortifications  which  attended  this  memorable 
conflict,  sank  into  his  grave,  and  now  sleeps  beyond  the 
reach  of  war's  loud  tumult ;  while  on  the  other  hand, 
Louis  Napoleon  has  earned  for  himself  the  reputation  of 
having  triumphed  over  the  most  powerful,  determined 
and  dangerous  despot  of  modern  times. 

But  gentler  and  brighter  memories  than  these  clustei 
around  the  recent  career  of  Louis  Napoleon.  In  January 
1853,  he  led  to  the  altar,  the  fair  Eugenie  de  Montijo, 
the  countess  and  duchess  of  Teba.  This  young  lady  be- 
longed to  the  most  distinguished  family  among  the  Span- 
ish grandees  of  the  first  class.  Her  mother,  the  countess 
of  Montijo  had  been  for  many  years  at  the  head  of  the 
haut  ton  of  Madrid.  The  family  usually  spent  their  sum- 
mers at  Biarritz,  a  watering  place  in  the  south  of  France  ; 
and  sometimes,  a  few  months  of  winter  they  passed  in  the 
French  capital.  It  was  thus  that  Louis  Napoleon  be- 
came acquainted  with  the  accomplished  and  fair  countess 
of  Teba.  She  was  then  aged  twenty-six  years,  and  was 
in  the  blooming  prime  of  her  radiant  southern  loveliness. 
The  heart  of  the  emperor  soon  felt  the  power  of  her  peer- 
less charms.  It  is  also  said  that  the  attachment  was 
mutual. 

When  Napoleon  first  revealed  his  intended  marriage  to 
his  council  of  ministers,  they  resigned  in  a  body.  The 
princess  Matilda  remonstrated.  But  opposition  and  re- 
monstrance only  rendered  the  emperor  more  resolute  in 


QUALITIES  OF  THE  EMPRESS.  379 

his  determination.  He  had  sought  the  hand  of  several 
princesses  of  royal  houses  in  Europe,  and  had  sought  them 
in  vain.  He  resolved  that  he  would  be  repulsed  and  mor- 
tified no  more.  He  loved  the  graceful  and  accomplished 
countess,  and  he  would  marry  her.  Nor  has  she  proved 
herself  unworthy  of  the  exalted  eminence  to  which  pro- 
pitious fortune  has  elevated  her.  Before  the  marriage 
was  celebrated,  it  was  said  that  Napoleon's  marked  atten- 
tions to  her  excited  the  apprehensions  of  her  friends  for 
the  safety  of  her  reputation ;  and  before  she  herself  con- 
sented to  become  the  bride  of  the  monarch  of  France  she 
expressly  stipulated  that  Mrs.  Howard,  the  former  mis- 
tress of  Napoleon  during  many  years  of  good  and  evil 
fortune,  should  be  banished  permanently  from  France. 
Seated  now  upon  the  throne  of  Maria  Antoinette,  of  Jose- 
phine, and  of  Maria  Louisa — a  throne  hung  around  with 
so  many  splendid  and  mournful  memories  and  associations 
— the  Empress  Eugenia  gracefully  and  meekly  bears  her 
exalted  state ;  and  day  by  day  wins  more  completely  the 
admiration,  the  applause,  and  even  the  affection  of  the 
nation. 

And  thus,  the  triumphant  drama  of  Napoleon's  career 
has  steadily  progressed.  He  has  been  welcomed  as  a  visi- 
tor by  the  monarch  of  England,  in  the  stately  halls  of  the 
Stuarts  and  the  Plantaganets,  and  has  been  received  as  an 
honored  guest  by  the  greatest  capital  of  the  world,  with 
the  gift  of  the  freedom  of  the  city,  with  joyous  salvos  of 
artillery,  wdth  the  acclamations  of  countless  multitudes, 
with  flying  banners,  with  military  arrays,  and  with  all  the 
pomp  and  splendor  of  the  ancient  nobility  and  chivalry  of 
England.  And  then,  Brittannia's  Queen  and  her  consort. 


880     ALLIANCE  BETWEEN  ENGLAND  AND  FRANCE. 

return  the  compliment.  They  visit  their  recent  guest  in 
the  land  of  his  birth,  and  of  his  triumph.  At  their  coming 
the  gay  and  brilliant  Paris  puts  on  her  most  resplendent 
attire  to  welcome  them.  Spectacles  of  beauty,  of 
luxury,  and  of  joy,  such  as  the  world  had  never  seen  be- 
fore, surrounded  and  delighted  the  strangers,  on  every 
side.  The  most  memorable  scenes  of  festivity  exhibited 
during  the  empire  of  the  great  Napoleon,  were  all  thrown 
into  the  shade  by  those  which  were  then  witnessed ;  and 
strangest  of  all,  the  hereditary  and  once  implacable  ene- 
mies of  Pondicherry,  of  Salamanca,  and  of  Waterloo, 
exhibited  themselves  to  the  world  in  the  amazing  atti- 
tude of  friends,  united  in  a  close  and  an  affectionate  em- 
brace !  And  while  astonished  Europe  looks  and  wonders 
at  the  strange  and  improbable  events  which  have  come  to 
pass  in  these  latter  days,  Napoleon  retires  to  the  secrecy 
of  his  cabinet,  and  there  laughs  at  the  success  with  which 
he  has  wheedled  and  won  the  stern  natives  of  Britain ; 
how  he  has  induced  them  to  honor  him  in  their  capital ; 
how  he  has  beguiled  their  monarch  to  adulate  him  in  his 
own  more  sumptuous  palace ;  and  has  given  him  an  op- 
portunity of  displaying  the  superiority  of  Paris  and 
France,  to  London  and  England ;  how  he  has  thrown  upon 
his  allies  the  burden  and  the  expense  of  a  dangerous 
war,  in  the  issue  of  which  they  have  not  the  least  particle 
of  real  interest ;  how  he  has  laid  the  hated  Nicholas  in 
his  grave ;  how  he  makes  the  ancient  monarchies  of  Aus- 
tria, Prussia  and  Sardinia  subservient  to  his  crafty  policy ; 
and  how,  since  the  death  of  the  Russian  Czar,  he  has  ren- 
dered himself  the  most  remarkable,  the  most  successful, 
and  the  most  powerful  man,  of  the  present  time ! 


BIRTH  OF  THE  IMPERIAL  PRINCE.  331 

On  the  sixteenth  of  March,  1856,  the  long-continued 
and  ardent  hopes  of  Louis  Napoleon,  that  he  might  be 
blessed  with  an  heir  to  his  throne  we're  gratified.  A  son 
was  born  to  him,  who  received  the  title  of  the  Prince  of 
Algeria.  As  was  the  case  at  the  birth  of  the  unfortunate 
King  of  Rome,  forty-five  years  before,  a  hundred  and  one 
discharges  of  cannon  shook  the  foundations  of  the  capital, 
and  announced  the  happy  event  to  the  enraptured  popu- 
lation. The  empress  was  considered  to  be  in  extreme 
danger  for  some  hours,  and  she  expected  that  every  mo- 
ment would  be  her  last.  The  son  of  the  former  accouch- 
eur of  the  empress  Maria  Louisa,  Dubois,  officiated  on  this 
occasion ;  and  the  peril  of  his  illustrious  patient  very  con- 
siderably increased  his  own  trepidation  and  nervousness. 
His  father  had  received  ten  thousand  pounds  for  his  ser- 
vices to  the  fair  daughter  of  the  Hapsburgs.  The  son, 
more  fortunate  than  his  father  receives  twenty  thousand  for 
his  efforts  in  the  service  of  the  more  grateful  and  munificent 
possessor  of  the  French  throne.  Louis  Napoleon  himself 
was  overcome  with  emotion.  Falling  upon  the  neck  of 
his  cousin,  the  prince  Napoleon,  the  former  heir  presump- 
tive, he  exclaimed,  amid  a  burst  of  tears:  "I  am  sure 
you  will  love  and  protect  this  child !  "  He  had  given  to 
Eugenia  on  this  solemn  occasion,  that  precious  reliquary, 
the  letters  of  Napoleon  I.  and  of  his  mother  Hortense, 
which,  during  his  whole  life  he  has  carried  in  his  bosom, 
and  from  which  he  never  parts.  It  may  have  exerted  no 
inconsiderable  influence  on  the  imagination  of  the  em- 
press during  the  sufferings  of  her  accouchement. 

To  what  high  hopes,  to  what  glorious  destiny,  or  to 
what  sad  misfortunes  and  romantic  vicissitudes  this  last 


382  HIS  PROBABLE  DESTINY. 

representative  of  the  great  Napoleonic  dynasty  may  be 
reserved,  are  mysteries  deeply  hidden  in  the  future.  But 
it  is  a  circumstance  and  a  coincidence  deserving  of  special 
notice,  that  no  prince  born  in  France  as  heir-apparent  to 
the  throne  during  the  last  two  hundred  years,  has  ever 
ascended  the  dizzy  and  dangerous  eminence  of  his  inheri- l 
tance.  Louis  XIV.  survived  both  his  son,  his  grandson, 
and  several  of  his  great-grand  sons ;  and  was  succeeded 
at  last  by  one  of  the  sons  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy. 
Louis  XV.  outlived  his  own  son,  and  was  succeeded  by 
his  grandson  Louis  XVI.  The  unfortunate  child  of  the 
latter,  the  dauphin,  perished  miserably  as  we  have  seen, 
in  the  dark  and  filthy  dungeon  to  which  the  ferocious  and 
blood-thirsty  fanatics  of  the  revolution  had  consigned  him. 
The  King  of  Rome,  the  heir-apparent  of  a  mightier  dynas- 
ty, died  in  reality  a  states'  prisoner  at  Vienna,  the  victim 
of  the  combined  intrigues  of  Metternich  and  ballet-dan- 
cers. The  Duke  de  Berry,  the  representative  of  the  re- 
stored race  of  the  Bourbons,  was  assassinated  before  he 
reached  the  purple ;  and  the  Duke  de  Bordeaux,  the  son 
of  Charles  X.  and  the  Count  of  Paris,  are  fugitives  and 
exiles  from  the  land  of  their  forefathers.  Whether  the 
Prince  of  Algiers  who,  in  his  turn  now  represents  the 
hopeb  of  the  resuscitated  power  and  splendor  of  the  Na- 
poleonic race,  shall  be  happier  and  more  fortunate  than 
preceding  princes,  time  by  its  slow  yet  steady  flight 
alone  can  demonstrate. 

But  for  the  present,  the  birth  of  this  prince  is  a  pro- 
pitious circumstance  for  the  prospects  of  Louis  Napoleon. 
It  confirms  his  possession  of  the  throne.  It  establishes  a 
great  dynasty.  It  renders  that  dynasty  at  cnce  powerful 


THE  PEACE  OF  EUROPE.  383 

in  legitimacy,  and  in  the  voluntary  affections  of  the  French 
nation.  And  it  invests  the  future  fate  of  France  and  of 
the  Napoleons,  whatever  that  fate  may  be,  with  a  deeper, 
intenser,  and  more  tragical  interest  during  all  coming 
time. 

The  Prince  of  Algiers  was  born  at  a  propitious  mo- 
ment. He  may  fitly  be  termed  the  harbinger  of  peace  to 
a  distracted  continent.  At  the  period  of  his  birth  the 
plenipotentiaries  of  great  and  belligerent  powers  were 
assembled  together,  through  the  skilfull  management  of 
Louis  Napoleon,  in  the  same  capital  in  which  the  imperial 
infant  first  saw  the  light,  in  order  to  lull  the  fierce  and 
bloody  genius  of  war  to  repose,  to  bind  him  fast  with 
chains,  which  all  wise  and  good  men  hoped  would  prove 
eternal,  and  to  diffuse  the  blessings  of  peace  and  concord 
over  many  afflicted  and  desolated  lauds.  The  coincidence 
of  his  birth,  and  the  establishment  of  a  European  truce 
may  be  the  happy  presage  of  a  more  glorious  futurity ; 
and  this  last  Memorable  Scene  in  French  history  may  be 
one  of  the  most  fortunate  and  propitious  which  has  oc- 
curred in  that  vexed  land  of  revolutions  and  convulsions, 
during  the  progress  of  several  troubled  centuries.  Since 
the  downfall  of  the  great  Corsican,  the  most  dangerous 
foe  to  the  repose  of  Europe  has  been  the  aggressive  poli- 
cy and  the  insatiable  ambition  of  the  Czar  Nicholas  of 
Russia.  He  had  resolved  to  insert  the  gem  of  Constanti- 
nople's crown  among  the  brilliant  jewels  of  his  own  dia- 
dem ;  and  to  make  the  ancient  inheritance  of  the  false 
prophet  an  appendage  to  his  own  stupendous  empire. 
Nor  would  even  these  mighty  aspirations,  had  they  been 
realized,  have  been  the  probable  terminus  to  his  encroach- 


384  LOUIS  NAPOLEON'S  POLICY. 

ments  on  the  integrity  and  the  rights  of  Europe  and  na- 
tions ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  predict  where  the  mighty 
surges  of  his  proud  and  arrogant  ambition  would  at  last 
have  been  stayed.  But  the  haughty  autocrat  now  sleeps 
in  a  trance  so  profound  that  there  is  no  fear  of  his  waking ! 
The  silent  though  stately  tomb  covers  the  mouldering 
form  once  so  instinct  with  fierce  and  despotic  energy ;  and 
the  sultan  no  longer  trembles  on  his  throne  at  the  ap- 
proach of  the  Muscovite  legions.  Nor  is  it  probable  that 
any  of  the  successors  of  Nicholas  I.  after  the  severe  lesson 
which  they  have  received  by  the  events  of  the  Crimean 
war,  will  ever  again  venture  to  reassert  his  aggressive 
and  oppressive  principles,  in  reference  to  the  prerogatives 
and  the  territories  of  neighboring  countries.  And  it  is 
but  just  to  Louis  Napoleon  to  say,  that  he  first  ventured 
to  excite  the  immediate  hostility  of  the  great  czar ;  that 
he  first  defied  his  gigantic  power ;  that  he  was  the  soul 
of  the  coalition  which  dared  to  meet  his  innumerable  le- 
gions in  the  field,  and  to  assail  them  on  the  battlements ; 
that  he  manfully  upheld  the  spirit  and  energy  of  the  mem- 
bers of  that  coalition,  when  they  were  about  to  fail ;  that 
he  carried  on  the  conflict  resolutely  till  victory  had  been 
nobly  won ;  that  he,  in  the  appropriate  moment  of  triumph 
proposed  the  assembling  of  plenipotentiaries  for  the  ar- 
rangement of  a  peace  between  the  belligerents ;  that  he 
aided  these  plenipotentiaries  in  not  a  few  important  crises 
in  their  deliberations,  to  overcome  great  difficulties,  and 
eventually  to  harmonize  upon  equitable  terms  of  settle- 
ment ;  and  that  to  him  are  chiefly  due  the  present  humil- 
iation of  Russia,  the  premature  decease  of  the  turbulent 
Nicholas,  the  European  concord  which  at  present  prevails, 


CONCLUSION.  385 

the  unequaled  prosperity  which  now  adorns  the  land  over 
which  he  rules,  and  in  some  measure  the  greater  glory 
and  felicity,  which  the  future  may  yet  reveal  to  Europe 
and  to  the  world ! 

Even  the  premature  death  of  this  remarkable  man 
would  not  necessarily  undermine  the  stability  or  termi- 
nate the  duration  of  the  government  which  he  has  inau- 
gurated ;  for  the  Council  of  Regime  which  he  has  appoint- 
ed to  take  charge  of  the  empire  during  the  time  which 
might  elapse  between  his  death  and  his  son's  majority, 
would  secure  the  perpetuity  of  the  empire.  In  June, 
1857,  elections  took  place  throughout  France  for  the 
members  of  the  Corps  Legislatif;  and  the  result  of  the 
contest  showed  conclusively  that  the  power  of  the  factions 
hostile  to  the  Imperial  government  was  broken ;  and  the 
approving  voice  of  the  nation  clearly  indicated  that  they 
were  still  content  to  live  beneath  the  rigid  yet  satisfactory 
operation  of  the  Second  Empire. 

Q  25 

THE   END. 


STANDARD  AND  POPULAR  BOOKS 

PUBLISHED  BY 

PORTER  &toEg,  PHILADELPHIA  Pi 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS.    By  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 


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(1) 


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ENGLAND,   PICTURESQUE    AND    DESCRIPTIVE.     By  JOEL 
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finely  engraved  illustrations,  descriptive  of  the  most  famous 
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rural  life  of  England  and  Wales.     With  Mr.  Cook's  admirable 
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are  few  satisfactory  works  about  this  land  which  is  so  generously  gifted  liy 
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books. The  present  work  is  believed  to  be  the  first  attempt  to  give  in  attrac- 
tive form  a  description  of  the  stately  homes,  renowned  castles,  ivy-clad  ruins 
of  abbeys,  churches,  and  ancient  fortresses,  delirious  scenery,  rock-bound 
eoasts,  and  celebrated  places  of  England  and  Wales.    It  is  written  by  an 
author  fully  competent  from  travel  and  reading,  and  in  position  to  properly 
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into  requisition  to  graphically  illustrate  its  well-written  pages.     There  are 
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and  legend  of  each  of  the  places  described  to  make  the  story  highly  inter- 
esting. Its  pages  fairly  overflow  with  picture  and  description,  telling  of 
everything  attractive  that  is  presented  by  England  and  Wales  Executed 
in  the  highest  style  of  the  printer's  and  engraver's  art.  "  England,  Pictur- 
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PORTER  &  COATES'   PUBLICATIONS. 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR  IN  AMERICA.  By  the  COMTE 
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Army  of  the  Potomac  in  the  East,  and  the  Army  of"  the  Cumberland  and 
Tennessee  in  the  West. 

It  contains  full  accounts  of  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville,  the  attack  of  the 
monitors  on  Fort  riumter,  the  sieges  and  fall  of  Vicksburg  and  Port  Hudson ; 
the  battles  of  Port  Gibson  and  Champion's  Hill,  and  the  fullest  and  most 
authentic  account  of  the  battle  of  Gettysburg  ever  written. 

"The  head  of  the  Orleans  family  has  put  pen  to  paper  with  excellent 

result Our  present  impression  is  that  it  will  form  by  far  the  best 

history  of  the  American  war." — Athenceum,  London. 

"  We  advise  all  Americans  to  read  it  carefully,  and  judge  for  themselves 
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already  arrived  in  the  Comte  de  Paris." — Nation,  New  York. 

"This  is  incomparably  the  best  account  of  our  great  second  revolution 
that  has  yet  been  even  attempted.  It  is  so  calm,  so  dispassionate,  so  accurate 
in  detail,  and  at  the  same  time  so  philosophical  in  general,  that  its  reader 
counts  confidently  on  finding  the  complete  work  thoroughly  satisfactory." — 
Evening  Bulletin,  Philadelphia. 

"The  work  expresses  the  calm,  deliberate  judgment  of  an  experienced 
military  observer  and  a  highly  intelligent  man.  Many  of  its  statements 
will  excite  discussion,  but  we  much  mistake  if  it  does  not  take  high  and 
permanent  ranK  among  the  standard  histories  of  the  civil  war.  Indeed 
that  place  has  been  assigned  it  by  the  most  competent  critics  both  of  this 
country  and  abroad." — Times,  Cincinnati. 

"Messrs.  Porter  &  Coates,  of  Philadelphia,  will  publish  in  a  few  days  the 
authorized  translation  of  the  new  volume  of  the  Comte  de  Paris'  History  of 
Our  Civil  War.  The  two  volumes  in  French — the  fifth  and  sixth — are  bound 
together  in  the  translation  in  one  volume.  Our  readers  already  know, 
through  a  table  of  contents  of  these  volumes,  published  in  the  cable  columns 
of  the  Herald,  the  period  covered  by  this  new  installment  of  a  work  remark- 
able in  several  ways.  It  includes  the  most  important  and  decisive  period  of 
the  war,  and  the  two  great  campaigns  of  Gettysburg  and  Vicksburg. 

"The  great  civil  war  has  bad  i.o  better,  no  abler  historian  than  the  French 
prince  who,  emulating  the  example  of  Lafayette,  took  part  in  this  new 
struggle  for  freedom,  and  who  now  writes  of  events,  in  many  of  which  he 
participated,  as  an  accomplished  officer,  and  one  who,  by  his  independent 
position,  his  high  character  and  eminent  talents,  was  placed  in  circum- 
stances and  relations  which  gave  him  almost  unequalled  opportunities  to 
gain  correct  information  and  form  impartial  judgments. 

"The  new  installment  of  a  work  which  has  already  become  a  classic  will 
be  read  with  increased  interest  by  Americans  l>ecause  of  the  importance  of 
the  period  it  covers  and  the  stirring  events  it  describes.  In  advance  of  a 
careful  review  we  present  to-day  some  extracts  from  the  advance  sheets  sent 
us  by  Messrs.  Porter  &  Coates,  which  will  give  our  readers  a  foretaste  of 
chapters  which  bring  back  to  memory  so  many  half-forgotten  and  not  a  f*w 
hitherto  unvalued  details  of  a  time  which  Americans  of  this  generation  at 
least  cannot  read  of  without  a  fresh  thrill  of  excitement." 


PORTER  &  COATES'   PUBLICATIONS. 


HALF-HOURS  WITH  THE  BEST  AUTHORS.  With  short  Bi- 
ographical and  Critical  Notes.  By  CHAKLES  KNIGHT. 

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The  excellent  idea  of  the  editor  of  these  choice  volumes  has  been  most 
admirably  carried  out,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  list  of  authors  upon  all  sub- 
jects. Selecting  some  choice  passages  of  the  best  standard  authors,  each  of  suffi- 
cient length  to  occupy  half  an  hour  in  its  perusal,  there  is  here  food  for 
thought  for  every  day  in  the  year:  so  that  if  the  purchaser  will  devote  but 
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noblest  thoughts  of  many  of  the  greatest  minds  will  he  firmly  in  his  mind 
forever.  For  every  Sunday  there  is  a  suitable  selection  from  some  of  the 
most  eminent  writers  in  sacred  literature.  \Ve  venture  to  say  if  the  editor's 
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English  classics  at  the  end  of  the  year  than  he  would  by  five  years  of  desul- 
tory reading. 

They  can  be  commenced  at  any  day  in  the  year.  The  variety  of  reading 
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Itself. 

THE  POETRY  OF  OTHER  LANDS.    A  Collection  of  Transla- 
tions into  English  Verse  of  the   Poetry  of  Other  Languages, 
Ancient  and  Modern.      Compiled  by  N.  CLEMMONS  HUNT. 
Containing  translations  from  the  Greek,  Latin,  Persian,  Ara- 
bian, Japanese,  Turkish,  Servian,  Russian,  Bohemian,  Polish, 
Dutch,   German,   Italian,   French,  Spanish,   and    Portuguese 
languages.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  gilt  edges,  $2.50;  half  calf,  gilt, 
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"  Another  of  the  publications  of  Porter  &  Coates,  called  'The  Poetry  of 
Other  Lands,'  compiled  by  N.  Clemmons  Hunt,  we  most  warmly  commend. 
It  is  one  of  the  bast  collections  we  have  seen,  containing  many  exquisite 
poems  and  fragments  of  verse  which  have  not  before  been  put  into  book 
form  in  English  words.    We  find  many  of  the  old  favorites,  which  appear 
in  every  well-selected  collection  of  sonnets  and  songs,  and  we  miss  others, 
which  seem  a  necessity  to  complete  the  bouquet  of  grasses  and  flowers, 
some  of  which,  from  time  to  time,  we  hope  to  republish  in  the  'Courier.  '"— 
Cincinnati  Courier. 

"  A  book  of  rare  excellence,  because  it  gives  a  collection  of  choice  gems  in 
many  languages  not  available  to  the  general  lover  of  poetry.  It  contains 
translations  from  the  Greek,  Latin,  Persian,  Arabian,  Japanese,  Turkish, 
Servian,  Russian,  Bohemian,  Polish,  Dutch.  German,  Italian,  French, 
Spanish,  and  Portuguese  languages.  The  hook  will  be  an  admirable  com- 
panion volume  to  anyone  of  the  collections  of  English  poetry  that  are  now 
published.  With  the  full  index  of  authors  immediately  preceding  the  col- 
lection, and  the  arrangement  of  the  poems  under  headings,  the  reader  will 
find  it  convenient  for  reference.  It  is  a  gift  that  will  be  more  valued  by 
very  many  than  some  of  the  transitory  ones  at  these  holiday  times."— 
Philadelphia  Methodist. 


PORTER  &  COATES'    PUBLICATIONS. 


THE  FIRESIDE  ENCYCLOPAEDIA  OF  POETEY.  Edited  by 
HENRY  T.  COATES.  This  is  the  latest,  and  beyond  doubt  the 
best  collection  of  poetry  published.  Printed  on  fine  paper  and 
illustrated  with  thirteen  steel  engravings  and  fifteen  title 
pages,  containing  portraits  of  prominent  American  poets  and 
fee-similes  of  their  handwriting,  made  expressly  for  this  book. 
8vo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  gilt  edges,  $5.00;  half  calf, 
gilt,  marbled  edges,  $7.50;  half  morocco,  full  gilt  edges,  $7.50; 
full  Turkey  morocco,  gilt  edges,  $10.00;  tree  calf,  gilt  edges, 
$12.00;  plush,  padded  side,  nickel  lettering,  $14.00. 

"The  editor  shows  a  wide  acquaintance  with  the  most  precious  treasures 
of  English  verse,  and  has  gathered  the  most  admirable  specimens  of  their 
ample  wealth.  Many  pieces  which  have  been  passed  hy  in  previous  collec- 
tions hold  a  place  of  honor  in  the  present  volume,  and  will  be  heartily  wel- 
comed by  the  lovers  of  poetry  as  a  delightful  addition  to  their  sources  of 
enjoyment.  It  is  a  volume  rich  in  solace,  in  enteriainment,  in  inspiration, 
of  which  the  possession  may  well  be  coveted  by  every  lover  of  poetry.  The 
pictorial  illustrations  of  the  work  are  in  keeping  with  its  poetical  contents, 
and  the  beauty  of  the  typographical  execution  entitles  it  to  a  place  among 
the  choicest  ornaments  of  the'lihrary." — New  York  Tribune. 

"Lovers  of  good  poetry  will  find  this  one  of  the  richest  collections  ever 
made.  All  the  best  singers  iD  our  language  are  represented,  and  the  selec- 
tions are  generally  those  which  reveal  their  highest  qualities The 

lights  and  shades,  the  finer  play  of  thought  and  imagination  belonging  to 
individual  authors,  are  brought  out,  in  this  way  (by  the  arrangement  of 
poems  under  subject-headings)  as  they  would  not  be  under  any  other  sys- 
tem  We  are  deeply  impressed  with  the  keen  appreciation  of  poetical 

worth,  and  also  with  the  good  taste  manifested  by  the  compiler." — Church- 
man. 

"Cyclopaedias  of  poetry  are  numerous,  but  for  sterling  value  of  its  contents 
for  the  library,  or  as  a  book  of  reference,  no  work  of  the  kind  will  compare 
with  this  admirable  volume  of  Mr.  Coates  It  takes  the  gems  from  many 
volumes,  culling  with  rare  skill  and  judgment."— Chicago  Inler-Ocenn. 

THE  CHILDREN'S  BOOK  OF  POETRY.  Compiled  by  HENRY 
T.  COATES.  Containing  over  500  poems  carefully  selected 
from  the  works  of  the  best  and  most  popular  writers  for  chil- 
dren ;  with  nearly  200  illustrations.  The  most  complete  col- 
lection of  poetry  for  children  ever  published.  4to.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold,  gilt  side  and  edges,  $3.00;  full  Turkey 
morocco,  gilt  edges,  $7.50. 

"This  seems  to  us  the  best  book  of  poetry  for  children  in  existence.  We 
have  examined  rcany  other  collections,  but  we  cannot  name  another  that 
deserves  to  be  compared  with  this  admirable  compilation." — Worcester  Spy. 
"The  special  value  of  the  book  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  nearly  or  quite 
covers  the  entire  field.  There  is  not  a  great  deal  of  good  poetry  which  has 
been  written  for  children  that  cannot  be  found  in  this  book.  The  collection 
is  particularly  strong  in  ballads  and  tales,  which  are  apt  to  interest  children 
more  than  poems  of  other  kinds;  and  Mr.  Coates  haR  shown  good  judgment 
in  supplementing  this  department  with  some  of  the  best  poems  of  that  class 
that  have  been  written  for  erown  people.  A  surer  method  of  forming  the 
taste  of  children  for  good  and  pure  literature  than  by  reading  to  them  from 
any  portion  of  this  book  can  hardly  be  imagined.  The  volume  is  richly 
illustrated  and  beautifully  bound." — Philadfli>hia  Evening  Bulletin. 

"A  more  excellent  volume  cannot  be  found.  We  have  found  within  the 
covers  of  this  handsome  volumn,  and  upon  its  fair  pages,  many  of  the  most 
exquisite  poems  which  oar  language  contains.  It  must  become  a  standard 
Toluine,  and  can  never  grow  old  or  obsolete." — Episcopal  Recorder. 


PORTER  &  COATES'  PUBLICATIONS. 


THE  COMPLETE  WORKS  OF  THOS.  HOOD.   With  engravings 
on  steel.    4  vols.,  12mo.,  tinted  paper.     Poetical  Works ;   Up 
the  Rhine;    Miscellanies  and  Hood's  Own;   Whimsicalities, 
Whims,  and  Oddities.     Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $6.00; 
red  cloth,  paper  label,  gilt  top,  uncnt  edges,  $6.00;    half  calf, 
gilt,  marbled  edges,  $14.00;  half  Russia,  gilt  top,  $18.00. 
Hood's  verse,  whether  serious  or  comic— whether  serene  like  a  cloudless 
autumn  evening  or  sparkling  with   puns  like  a  frosty  January  midnight 
with  stars— was  ever  pregnant  with  materials  for  the  thought.     Like  every 
author  distinguished  for  true  comic  humor,  there  was  a  deep  vein  of  melan- 
choly pathos  running  through  his  mirth,  and  even  when  his  sun  shone 
brightly  its  light  seemed  often  reflected  as  if  only  over  the  rim  of  a  cloud. 

Well'may  we  say,  in  the  words  of  Tennyson,  "Would  he  could  have 
stayed  with  us."  for  never  could  it  be  more  truly  recorded  of  any  one — in 
the  words  of  Hamlet  characterizing  Yorick — that  "he  was  a  fellow  of  in- 
finite jest,  of  most  excellent  fancy."  D.  M.  MOIR. 

THE     ILIAD    OF    HOMER    RENDERED    INTO    ENGLISH 

BLANK    VERSE.    By    EDWARD,  EABL  OF  DERBY.    From 

the  latest  London  edition,  with  all  the  author's  last  revisions 

and  corrections,  and   with   a   Biographical   Sketch   of  Lord 

Derby,  by  R.  SHELTON    MACKENZIE,  D.C.L.     With    twelve 

steel  engravings  from  Flaxman's  celebrated  designs.    2  vols., 

12mo.    Cloth,  extra,  bev.  boards,  gilt  top,  $3.50;  half  calf,  gilt, 

marbled  edges,  $7.00 ;  half  Turkey  morocco,  gilt  top,  $7.00. 

The  same.     Popular  edition.    Two  vols.  in  one.     12mo.    Cloth, 

extra,  $1.50. 

"  It  must  equally  he  considered  a  splendid  performance;  and  for  the  pres- 
ent we  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  it  is  hy  far  the  hest  representation 
of  Homer's  Iliad  in  the  English  language." — London  Times. 

"Tne  merits  of  Lord  Derby's  translation  may  be  summed  up  in  one  word, 
it  is  eminently  attractive;  it  is  instinct  with  life ;  it  may  be  read  with  fervent 
interest;  it  is  immeasurably  nearer  than  Pope  to  the  text  of  the  original.  . 
.  .  .  Lord  Derby  has  given  a  version  far  more  closely  allied  to  the  original, 
and  superior  to  any  that  has  yet  been  attempted  in  the  blank  verse  of  our 
language." — Edinburg  Review. 

THE  WORKS  OF  FLAVIUS  JOSEPHUS.  Comprising  the  Anti- 
quities of  the  Jews ;  a  History  of  the  Jewish  Wars,  and  a  Lifie 
of  Flavins  Josephus,  written  by  himself.  Translated  from  the 
original  Greek,  by  WILLIAM  WHISTON,  A.M.  Together  with 
numerous  explanatory  Notes  and  seven  Dissertations  concern- 
ing Jesus  Christ,  John  the  Baptist,  James  the  Just,  God's  com- 
mand to  Abraham,  etc.,  with  an  Introductory  Essay  by  Rev. 
H.  STEBBING,  D.D.  8vo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  plain 
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marbled  edges,  $3.50;  Turkey  morocco,  gilt  edges,  $8.00. 
This  is  the  largest  type  one  volume  edition  published. 

THE  ANCIENT  HISTORY  OF  THE  EGYPTIANS,  CARTHA- 
GINIANS, ASSYRIANS,  BABYLONIANS,  MEDES  AND 
PERSIANS,  GRECIANS  AND  MACEDONIANS  Including 
a  History  of  the  Arts  and  Sciences  of  the  Ancients.  By 
CHARLES  ROLLIN.  With  a  Life  of  the  Author,  by  JAMES 
BELL.  2  vols.,  royal  8vo.  Sheep,  marbled  edges,  per  set,  $6.00. 


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COOKERY  FROM  EXPERIENCE.  A  Practical  Guide  for  House- 
keepers in  the  Preparation  of  Every-day  Meals,  containing 
more  than  One  Thousand  Domestic  Recipes,  mostly  tested  by 
Personal  Experience,  with  Suggestions  for  Meals,  Lists  of 
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Interleaved  Edition.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.75. 

THE  COMPARATIVE  EDITION  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 
Both  Versions  in  One  Book. 

The  proof  readings  of  our  Comparative  Edition  have  been  gone 
over  by  so  many  competent  proof  readers,  that  we  believe  the  text 
is  absolutely  correct. 

Large  12mo.,  700  pp.  Cloth,  extra,  plain  edges,  $1.50;  cloth, 
extra,  bevelled  boards  and  carmine  edges,  $1.75;  imitation  panelled 
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rocco, limp,  gilt  edges,  $4.00;  Turkey  morocco,  limp,  gilt  edges, 
$6.00. 

The  Comparative  New  Testament  has  been  published  by  Porter  &  Coatps. 
In  parallel  columns  on  each  page  are  given  the  old  and  new  versions  of  the 
Testament,  divided  also  as  far  as  practicable  into  comparative  versos,  M>  that 
it  is  almost  impossible  for  the  slightest  new  word  to  escape  the  notice  of 
either  the  ordinary  reader  or  the  analytical  student.  It  is  decidedly  the 
best  edition  yet  published  of  the  most  interest-exciting  literary  production 
of  the  day.  No  more  convenient,  form  for  eompaiison  could  be  devised 
either  for  economizing  time  or  labor.  Another  feature  is  the  foot-notes, 
and  there  is  also  given  in  an  appendix  the  various  words  and  expressions 
preferred  by  the  American  members  of  the  .Revising  Commission.  The 
work  is  handsomely  printed  on  excellent  paptr  with  clear,  legible  type.  It 
contains  nearly  700  pages. 

THE  COUNT  OF  MONTE  CRISTO.  By  ALEXANDBE  DUMAS. 
Complete  in  one  volume,  with  two  illustrations  by  George  G. 
White.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

THE  THREE  GUARDSMEN.    By  ALEXANDBE  DUMAS.    Com- 
plete in  one  volume,  with   two  illustrations  by  George  G. 
White.     12mo.     Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 
There  is  a  magic  influence  in  his  pen,  a  magnetic  attraction  in  hisdoscrip- 
tions,  a  fertility  in  his  literary  resources  which  are  characteristic  of  Dumas 
alone,  and  the  seal  of  the  master  of  light  literature  is  set  upon  all  his  works. 
Even  when  not  strictly  historical,  his  romances  give  an  insight  into  the 
habits  and  modes  of  thought  and  action  of  the  people  of  the  time  described, 
which  are  not  offered  in  any  other  author's  productions. 

THE  LAST  DAYS  OF  POMPEII.  By  Sir  EDWABD  BULWEB 
LYTTON,  Bart.  Illustrated.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and 
gold,  $1.00.  Alta  edition,  one  illustration,  75  cts. 

JANE  EYRE.  By  CHABLOTTE  BBONTE  (Currer  Bell).  New  Li- 
brary Edition.  With  five  illustrations  by  E.  M.  WIMPEBIS. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  g&ld,  $1.00. 

SHIRLEY.  By  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE  (Currer  Bell).  New  Library 
Edition.  With  five  illustrations  by  E.  M.  WIMPEBIS.  12mo. 
Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.00. 


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VILLETTE.  By  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE  (Cur rer  Bell).  New  Library 
Edition.  With  five  illustratious  by  E.  M.  WIMPERIS.  12nio. 
Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.00. 

THE  PKOFESSOE,  EMMA  and  POEMS.  By  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE 
(Currer  Bell).  New  Library  Edition.  With  five  illustrations 
by  E.  M.  WIMPEBIS.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.00. 

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$12.00.  The  four  volumes  forming  the  complete  works  of  Char- 
lotte Bronte  (Currer  Bell). 

The  wondrous  power  of  Currer  Bell's  stories  consists  in  their  fiery  Insight 
into  the  human  heart,  their  merciless  dissection  of  passion,  and  their  stern 
analysis  of  character  and  motive.  The  style  of  these  productions  possesses 
incredible  force,  sometimes  almost  grim  in  its  bare  severity,  then  relapsing 
iflto  passages  of  melting  pathos— always  direct,  natural,  and  effective  in  its 
unpretending  strength.  They  exhibit  the  identity  which  always  belongs  to 
works  of  genius  by  the  same  author,  though  without  the  slightest  approach 
to  monotony.  The  characters  portrayed  by  Currer  Bell  all  have  a  strongly 
marked  individuality.  Once  brought  before  the  imagination,  they  haunt 


CAPTAIN  JACK  THE  SCOUT;  or,  The  Indian  Wars  about  Old 
Fort  Duquesne.  An  Historical  Novel,  with  copious  notes. 
By  CHARLES  MCKNIGHT.  Illustrated  with  eight  engravings. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50. 

A  work  of  such  rare  merit  and  thrilling  interest  as  to  have  been  repub- 
lished  both  in  England  and  Germany.  This  genuine  American  historical 
work  has  been  received  with  extraordinary  popular  favor,  and  has  "won 
golden  opinions  from  all  sorts  of  people"  for  its  freshness,  its  forest  life,  and 
its  fidelity  to  truth.  In  many  instances  it  even  corrects  History  and  uses 
the  drapery  of  fiction  simply  to  enliven  and  illustrate  the  fact. 

It  is  a  universal  favorite  with  both  sexes,  and  with  all  ages  and  condi- 
tions, and  is  not  only  proving  a  marked  and  notable  success  in  this  country, 
but  has  been  eagerly  taken  up  abroad  and  republished  in  London,  England, 
and  issued  in  two  volumes  in  the  far-famed  "Tauchuetz  Edition  "  of  Luipsic, 
Germany. 

ORANGE  BLOSSOMS,  FRESH  AND  FADED.    By  T.  S.  ARTHUR. 

Illustrated.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50. 
"Orange  Blossoms"  contains  a  number  of  short  stories  of  society.  Like 
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addressed  to  the  young  who  have  just  entered  the  marital  experience,  whom 
it  pleasantly  warns  against  those  social  and  moral  pitfalls  into  which  they 
may  almost  innocently  plunge. 

THE  BAR  ROOMS  AT  BRANTLEY;  or,  The  Great  Hotel  Spec- 
ulation. By  T.  S.  ARTHUR.  Illustrated.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra, 
black  and  gold,  $1.50. 

"One  of  the  best  temperance  stories  recently  issued." — N.  Y,  Commercial 
Advertiser. 

"Although  it  is  tn  the  form  of  a  novel,  its  truthful  delineation  of  charac- 
ters is  such  that  in  every  village  in  the  land  you  meet  the  broken  manhood 
it  pictures  upon  the  streets,  and  look  upon  sad.  tear-dimmed  eyes  of  women 
and  children.  The  characters  are  not  overdrawn,  but  are  as  truthful  as  an 
artist's  pencil  could  make  them." — Inter-Ocean,  Chicago. 


10  PORTER  &  COAXES'  PUBLICATIONS. 

EMMA._  By  JANE  AUSTEN.     Illustrated.     12mo.     Cloth,  extra, 


MANSFIELD  PARK.  By  JANE  AUSTEN.  Illustrated.  12mo 
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PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE;  and  Northanger  Abbey.  By  JANE 
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SENSE  AND  SENSIBILITY;  and  Persuasion.  By  JANE  AUSTEN. 
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"Jane  Austen,  a  woman  of  whom  England  is  justly  proud.  In  her  novels 
she  has  given  us  a  multitude  of  characters,  all,  in  a  certain  sense,  common- 
place, all  such  as  we  meet  every  day.  Yet  they  are  all  as  perfectly  discrimi- 
nated from  each  other  as  if  they  were  the  most  eccentric  of  human  beings. 
....  And  almost  all  this  is  done  by  touches  so  delicate  that  they  elude 
analysis,  that  they  defy  the  powers  of  description,  and  that  we  know  them 
to  exist  only  by  the  general  effect  to  which  they  have  contributed." — Ma- 
cauiay't  Essays. 

ART  AT  HOME.  Containing  in  one  volume  House  Decoration, 
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interesting  picture  of  our  public  schools,  the  most  English  institutions  of 
England,  and  which  educate  the  best  and  most  powerful  elements  in  our 
upper  classes.  But  it  is  more  than  this;  it  is  an  attempt,  a  very  noble  and 
successful  attempt,  to  Christianize  the  society  of  our  youth,  through  the 
only  practicable  channel — hearty  and  brotherly  sympathy  with  their  feel- 
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and  religious  questions,  now  deeply  moving  by  its  unconscious  pathos,  and 
.anon  inspiring  uproarious  laughter,  it  is  a  work  the  world  will  not  willingly 
l«t  die."— N.  Y.  Christian  Adwoaie. 


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extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50. 


serve  only  to  gild  the  surface  without  affecting  the  substancp.    It  is  ad 


BCJ  ve  vuty  iu  gnu  LUC  Bunaue  WJLUUUI-  aueuimg  me  Esuusiaucn.      it  is  au 

ably  written,  the  style  being  clear,  terse,  and  forcible." — St.  Louis  Times, 


THE  UNDERGROUND  CITY;  or,  The  Child  of  the  Cavern. 
By  JULES  VERNE.  Translated  from  the  French  by  W.  H. 
KINGSTON.  With  43  illustrations.  Standard  Edition.  12mo. 
Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50. 

AROUND  THE  WORLD  IN  EIGHTY  DAYS.  By  JULES  VERNE. 
Translated  by  GEO.  M.  TOWLE.  With  12  full-page  illustrations. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

AT  THE  NORTH  POLE ;  or,  The  Voyages  and  Adventures  of 
Captain  Hatteras.  By  JULES  VEKNE.  With  130  illustrations 
by  Riou.  Standard  Edition.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and 
gold,  $1.25. 

THE  DESERT  OF  ICE;  or,  The  Further  Adventures  of  Captain 
Hatteras.  By  JULES  VERNE.  With  126  illustrations  by  Riou. 
Standard  Edition.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

TWENTY  THOUSAND  LEAGUES  UNDER  THE  SEAS;  or, 
The  Marvellous  and  Exciting  Adventures  of  Pierre  Arounax, 
Conseil  his  servant,  and  Ned  Land,  a  Canadian  Harpooner.  By 
JULES  VERNE.  Standard  Edition.  Illustrated.  12mo.  Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

THE  WRECK  OF  THE  CHANCELLOR,  Diary  of  J.  R.  Kazallon, 
Passenger,  and  Martin  Paz.     By  JULES  VERNE.    Translated 
from  the  French  by  ELLEN  FREWER.     With  10  illustrations. 
Standard  Edition.     12mo.    Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 
Jules  Verne  is  so  well  known  that  the  mere  announcement  of  anything 
from  his  pen  is  Mifficient  to  create  a  demand  for  it.    One  of  his  chief  merits 
is  the  wonderful  art  with  which  he  lays  under  contribution  every  branch  of 
science  and  natural  history,  while  he  vividly  describes  with  minute  exact- 
ness all  parts  of  the  world  and  its  inhabitants. 


12         PORTER  &  COAXES'  PUBLICATIONS. 


THE  INGOLDSBY  LEGENDS;  or,  Mirth  and  Marvels.  By 
EICHAED  HARRIS  BARHAM  (Thomas  Ingoldsby,  Esq.).  New 
edition,  printed  from  entirely  new  stereotype  plates.  Illus 
trated.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.50;  half  calf, 
gilt,  marbled  edges,  $3.00. 

"Of  his  poetical  powers  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that,  for  originality  of 
design  and  diction,  for  grand  illustration  and  musical  verse,  they  are  not 
surpassed  in  the  English  language.  The  Witches'  Frolic  is  second  only  to 
Tarn  O'Shanter.  But  why  recapitulate  the  titles  of  either  prose  or  verse — 
since  they  have  been  confessed  l>y  every  judgment  to  be  singularly  rich  in 
classic  allusion  and  modern  illustration.  From  the  days  of  Hudibras  to  our 
time  the  drollery  invested  in  rhymes  has  never  been  so  amply  or  felicitously 
exemplified." — Bentley's  Miscellany. 

TEN  THOUSAND  A  YEAR.  By  SAMUEL  C.  WARREN,  author  of 
"The  Diary  of  a  London  Physician."  A  new  edition,  care- 
fully revised,  with  three  illustrations  by  GEORGE  G.  WHITE. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1  50. 

"Mr.  Warren  has  taken  a  lasting  place  among  the  imaginative  writers  of 
this  period  of  English  history.  He  possesses,  in  a  remarkable  manner,  the 
tenderness  of  heart  and  vividness  of  feeling,  as  well  as  powers  of  description, 
which  are  essential  to  the  delineation  of  the  pathetic,  and  which,  when 
existing  in  the  degree  in  which  he  enjoys  them,  fill  his  pages  with  scenes 
which  can  never  be  forgotten." — Sir  Archibald  Alison. 

THOMPSON'S  POLITICAL  ECONOMY;  With  Especial  Refer- 
ence to  the  Industrial  History  of  Nations.  By  Prof.  R.  E. 
THOMPSON,  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania.  12mo.  Cloth, 
extra,  $1.50. 

This  book  possesses  an  especial  interest  at  the  present  moment.  The 
questions  of  Free  Trade  and  Protection  are  before  the  country  more  directly 
than  at  any  earlier  period  of  our  history.  As  a  rule  the  works  and  text- 
books used  in  our  American  colleges  are  either  of  English  origin  or  teach 
Doctrines  of  a  political  economy  which,  as  Walter  Bagehot  says,  was  made 
for  England.  Prof.  Thompson  belongs  to  the  Nationalist  School  of  Econo- 
mists, to  which  Alexander  Hamilton,  Tench  Coxe,  Henry  Clay,  Matthew 
Carey,  and  his  greater  son,  Henry  C.  Carey,  Stephen  Colwell,  and  James 
Abram  Garfield  were  adherents.  He  believes  in  that  policy  of  Protection 
to  American  industry  which  has  had  the  sanction  of  every  great  American 
statesman,  not  excepting  Thomas  Jefferson  and  John  C.  Calhoun.  He  makes 
his  appeal  to  history  in  defence  of  that  policy,  showing  that  wherever  a 
weaker  or  less  advanced  country  has  practiced  Free  Trade  with  one  more 
powerful  or  richer,  the  former  has  lost  its  industries  as  well  as  its  money, 
and  has  become  economically  dependent  on  the  latter.  Those  who  wish 
to  learn  what  is  the  real  source  of  Irish  poverty  and  discontent  will  find  it 
here  stated  fully. 

The  method  of  the  book  is  historical.  It  is  therefore  no  series  of  dry  and 
abstract  reasonings,  such  as  repel  readers  from  books  of  this  cla<s.  The 
writer  does  not  ride  the  a  priori  nag,  and  say  "this  must  be  so,"  and  "that 
must  be  conceded."  He  shows  what  has  been  true,  and  seeks  to  elicit  the 
laws  of  the  science  from  the  experience  of  the  world.  The  book  overflows 
with  facts  told  in  an  interesting  manner. 

THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE  IN  ITS  THREE  HOMES,  and  the 
Practical  Bearings  of  general  European  History.  By  EDWARD 
A.  FREEMAN,  LL.D.,  Author  of  the  "Norman  Conquest  of 
England."  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  $1.75. 


PORTER  &  COAXES'    PUBLICATIONS.  13 

HANDY  ANDY.  A  Tale  of  Irish  Life.   By  SAMUEL  LOVER.  New 
Library  Edition,  with  two  original  illustrations  by  GEOEGE  G. 
WHITE.     12mo.    Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 
"Decidedly  the  best  story  of  the  day,  full  of  frolic,  genuine  fun,  and  ex- 
quisite touches  of  Irish  humor." — Dublin  Monitor. 

CHARLES  O'MALLEY,  The  Irish  Dragoon.  By  CHAELES  LEVER. 
New  Library  Edition,  with  two  original  illustrations  by  F.  O. 
C.  DABLEY.  12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

HARRY  LORREQUER.  By  CHAELES  LEVEE.  New  Library 
Edition,  with  two  original  illustrations  by  GEO.  G.  WHITE. 
12mo.  Cloth,  extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.25. 

"The  intense  spirit  and  frolic  of  the  author's  sketches  have  made  him 
one  of  the  most  successful  writers  of  the  day." — London  Literary  Gazelle. 

"The  author  is  pre-eminent  for  his  mirth-moving  powers,  for  his  acute 
sense  of  the  ridiculous,  for  the  breadth  of  his  humor,  and  his  powers  of 
dramatic  writing  which  render  his  boldest  conceptions  with  the  happiest 
facility." — London  Athenaum. 

"We  hardly  know  how  to  convey  an  adequate  notion  of  the  exuberant 
whim  and  drollery  by  which  this  writer  is  characterized.  His  works  are  a 
perpetual  feast  of  gayety."— John  Bull,  London. 

POPULAR   NATURAL   HISTORY.      By  the  Rev.  J.  G.  WOOD, 
M.A.    From  entirely  new  electrotype  plates,  with  five  hun- 
dred illustrations  by  eminent  artists.      Crown  8vo.     Cloth, 
extra,  black  and  gold,  $1.75. 
Mr.  Wood  is  an  amusing,  instructive,  and  sensible  writer — always  doing 

good  work  in  a  good  way — and  his  work  on  Natural  History  is  without 

doubt  his  masterpiece. 

THE  ODES  OF  HORACE.    Translated  into  English  verse,  with 
Life  and  Notes,  by  THEODOEE  MARTIN.    With  a  fine  portrait 
of  Horace.     16mo.    Cloth,  extra,  $1.00. 
Mr.  Martin's  translation  has  been  commended  as  preserving — more  than 

any  other — the  spirit,  and  grace  of  the  original.    It  is  the  most  successful 

attempt  ever  made  to  render  into  English  the  inimitable  odes  of  Horace. 

The  memoir  prefixed  to  the  volume  is  a  most  charming  piece  of  biography. 

GREEK  MYTHOLOGY  SYSTEMATIZED.  With  complete  Tables 
based  on  Hesiod's  Theogony ;  Tables  showing  the  relation  of 
Greek  Mythology  and  History,  arranged  from  Grote's  History 
of  Greece;  and  Gladstone's  Homeric  Tables.  With  a  full 
Index.  By  S.  A.  SCULL.  Profusely  illustrated.  12mo.  Cloth, 
black  and  gold,  $1.50. 

"A  book  which  will  prove  very  useful  to  the  student  and  man  of  letters, 
and  of  incalculable  benefit  as  a  hand-book." — Republic,  Washington. 

"A  real  want  is  supplied  by  this  book,  which  is,  in  fact,  a  cyclopaedia  of 
Greek  Mythology,  so  far  as  that  is  possible  in  a  single  volume  of  reasonable 
size  and  moderate  cost." — Evening  Mail,  New  York. 

"This  text-book  on  Mythology  presents  the  subject  in  a  more  practical 
and  more  attractive  style  than  any  other  work  on  the  subject  with  which 
we  are  familiar,  and  we  feel  assured  that  it  will  at  once  take  a  leading  posi- 
tion among  books  of  its  class." — The  Teacher,  Philadelphia. 


14  PORTER  &  COATES'    PUBLICATIONS. 


THE  IMITATION  OF  CHRIST.  By  THOMAS  a  KEMPIS.  New 
aud  best  edition,  from  entirely  new  electrotype  plates,  single 
column,  large,  clear  type.  18mo. 

Plain  Edition,  round  corners.  Cloth,  extra,  red  edges,  50  cents ; 
French  morocco,  gilt  cross,  75  cents;  limp  Russia,  inlaid  cross,  red 
under  gold  edges,  $2.00. 

Red  Line  Edition,  round  corners.  Cloth,  black  aud  gold,  red 
edges,  75  cents;  cloth,  black  and  gold,  gilt  edges,  $1.00;  French 
morocco,  red  under  gold  edges,  $1.50;  limp  Russia,  inlaid  cross,  red 
under  gold  edges,  $2.50;  limp  Russia,  solid  gilt  edges,  box  circuit, 
$3.00;  limp  calf,  red  under  gold  edges,  $2.50;  limp  calf,  solid  gilt 
edges,  box  circuit,  $3.00. 

THE  WORDS  AND  MIND  OF  JESUS  AND  FAITHFUL  PROM- 

ISER.    By  Rev.  J.  R.  MACDUFF,  D.D.,  author  of  "  Morning  and 

Night  Watches."     New  aud  best  edition,  from  entirely  new 

electrotype  plates,  single  column,  large,  clear  type.    18mo. 

Plain  Edition,  round  corners.    Cloth,  extra,  red  edges,  50  cents; 

French  morocco,  gilt  cross,  75  cents ;  limp  Russia,  inlaid  cross,  red 

under  gold  edges,  $2.00. 
Red  Line  Edition,  round  corners.     Cloth,  black  and  gold,  red 

edges,  75  cents ;  cloth,  black  and  gold,  gilt  edges,  $1.00 ;  limp  calf 

or  Russia,  red  under  gold  edges,  $2.50. 

A  DICTIONARY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  Comprising  its  Antiquities, 
Biography,  Geography,  Natural  History,  and  Literature. 
Edited  by  WILLIAM  SMITH,  LL.D.  Revised  aud  adapted  to 
the  present  use  of  Sunday-school  Teachers  and  Bible  Students 
by  Rev.  F.  N.  and  M.  A.  PELOUBET.  With  eight  colored  maps 
and  over  350  engravings  on  wood.  8vo.  Cloth,  extra,  black 
and  gold,  $2.00;  sheep,  marbled  edges,  $3.00;  half  morocco, 
gilt  top,  $3  50. 

"No  similar  work  in  our  own  or  in  any  other  language  is  for  a  moment  to 
be  compared  with  Dr.  Smith's  Dictionary  of  the  Bible.  The  Christian  and 
the  scholar  have  a  treasure-house  on  every  subject  connected  with  the 
Bible,  full  to  overflowing,  and  minute  even  to  the  telling  of  mint  and  cum- 
min."— London  Quarterly  Review. 

COMPREHENSIVE  BIOGRAPHICAL  DICTIONARY.  Embra- 
cing accounts  of  the  most  eminent  persons  of  all  ages,  nations, 
and  professions.  By  E.  A.  THOMAS.  Crown  8vo.  Cloth,  extra, 
gilt  top,  $2.50;  sheep,  marbled  edges,  $3.00;  halt  morocco,  gilt 
top,  $3.50;  half  Russia,  gilt  top,  $4.50. 

The  aim  of  the  publishers  in  issuing  this  work  is  to  present  in  convenient 
size  and  at  moderate  price  a  comprehensive  dictionary  of  biography,  em- 
bracing accounts  of  the  most 'eminent  personages  in  all  ages,  countries,  and 
professions. 

During  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  so  many  important  events  have  been 
enacted,  such  as  the  Civil  War  in  America  and  the  Franco-Prussian  War  of 
1870,  and  such  great  advances  have  been  made  in  the  line  of  invention  and 
scientific  investigation,  that  within  that  period  many  persons  have  risen  by 
superior  merit  to  conspicuous  positions;  and  as  the  plan  of  this  work  em- 
braces accounts  of  the  living  as  well  as  of  the  dead,  many  names  are  in- 
cluded that  are  not  to  be  found  in  other  dictionaries  of  biography. 


